


Touched By Stars

by carmillasleatherpants (courtneyarnelle)



Series: Blind Carmilla AU [1]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Blind Carmilla AU, Blind Character, Explicit Language, F/F, POV Second Person, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 18:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4315473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courtneyarnelle/pseuds/carmillasleatherpants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first you needed her.<br/>Then she needed you.<br/>Maybe what you needed<br/>Was a little bit of each other.</p><p>(Blind Carmilla AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shot Down

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Touched By Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14009574) by [Wolfling_Official](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfling_Official/pseuds/Wolfling_Official)



**So college isn’t turning** out exactly how you’d expected it to. What you’d expected to be your big college adventure filled with books to read and parties to dance at was actually a stressful first semester of papers to write and hormonal teenagers to avoid. Not to mention you’d suffered through your entire first semester with a crush on your _roommate’s_ girlfriend.

Not that you’d known she was your roommate’s girlfriend when the crush had developed. But this was _Danny Lawrence_. What wasn’t there to like about her? She’s tall and confident. Really smart and athletic. She seemed to have everything together from what you could tell. You hadn’t even known your roommate, one Elizabeth (Betty) Anne Spielsdorf, was dating her when you’d met.

Danny was your 19th Century English Literature class teaching assistant your first semester. She’d been standing in front of the class looking completely flawless. Six feet of grace and elegance, her red hair in a ponytail, wearing a baseball tee with washed-out jean shorts. She’d been chewing at the tip of an eraser and looking down at a notebook resting on a podium.

You can still remember how your heart skipped a beat when she looked up to meet your eye. And then you’d subsequently been knocked from behind by another student. You turned and glared at them but they were already making their way to their seat paying you no attention. When you looked back at your unnamed TA, she’d been smiling which made you blush and hurry to a seat in the front.

Your professor had introduced her as “Danny Lawrence” and you’d tried not to swoon since you’d been sitting _right in the front._ Then the professor randomly decided to call on students to find out their favorite novels of the time period to start the class. She'd pointed to you and you'd panicked.

You’d muttered out something along the lines of “Alice in— Frankenstein—The Secret Garden!”

You’d never been more embarrassed, but at the end of class Danny offered to show you around campus and there was no way you’d turn that down. It had been so nice, up until the moment she’d been walking you back to your dorm.

That’s when Betty appeared from your room and greeted Danny with a kiss and a ‘babe’ that had shattered your dreams.

“I didn’t know my girlfriend was your roommate.” Danny had laughed. Yeah, funny.

Despite yourself, that hadn’t done anything to diminish your crush on her. You’d learned through high school you really couldn’t control how you felt about people so you don’t blame yourself too much. Still, it sucked sitting on your bed trying to write essays for _her_ class while Danny and Betty were cuddled up on Betty’s side all loved up watching movies. Or hearing Danny walking Betty back from a date and listening to Betty _gush_ about how _amazing_ her night had been when you’re nursing a mug of cocoa trying to watch one of your shows. You couldn’t even blame anyone for your bitterness except your own petty jealousy.

It’s not so bad honestly. You make friends with your Floor Don, Perry, and her friend Lafontaine. You’d met Lafontaine previously on move in day. They were directing freshman like yourself to their different dorms, but you hadn’t talked to them since. Perry had reintroduced the two of you, and they became your parents away from home. They didn’t coddle you like your dad, but you could count on them.

You’re still not really sure what they are to each other. Perry threw around the words “best friend” often but they acted just like a married couple. You don’t want to make assumptions and make them uncomfortable, so you never push the topic.

When you can, you third wheel with them rather than Betty and Danny, ditching her invites to parties hosted by the club was Vice President of called the Summer Society in favor of quiet nights in with the married couple. At the very least you didn’t have to worry about them sucking face right in front of you.

Your dreams of making college your big adventure where you’d be that small town girl who takes everything thrown at you and makes it her bitch didn’t seem to be a thing that was going to happen. So instead of trying to make yourself noticed, you poured yourself into your grades.

And with great reward because you made Dean’s List with a 3.81 GPA your first semester.

* * *

 

 **When you come back** from winter break, Danny and Betty are still going strong from what you can tell from them already making out on Betty’s bed when you walk back in. Danny manages to separate herself from Betty long enough to invite you to a welcome back party the Summer Society was hosting.

“Welcome back, Laura.” Betty presses kisses to the underside of Danny’s jawline and you just manage to keep from frowning. Honestly your crush had died down a bit after break, but Betty unable to keep her hands to herself isn’t something you want to see.

“Hi, Danny.” It comes out a little drier than you mean but you don’t linger on it.

“The Summers are having a ‘Welcome Back’ party tonight, do you want to come?”

You consider the invitation but watching an Agent Carter streaming was definitely more appealing than the prospect of seeing another Summer Society vs. Zeta Omega Mu brawl and hanging around drunk hormonal teenagers. So you shake your head.

“No, that’s okay. Thank you though. I have… Stuff to do.” She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push it. Instead taking Betty’s hand and leading her from the room.

“Okay, see you later.” Betty throws you an absentminded wave while grabbing her keys and wallet from the headboard of her bed. Then her and Danny waltz out of the door leaving you alone in your dorm room. As usual.

You pull your laptop from your bag and place it on your desk, not bothering to unpack any of your clothes yet. You had more important matters to worry about and the clothes would be there tomorrow.

And that was how you’d ended up starting your second semester with sore eyes and full of regret as you drag yourself to your nine am class after being awake until four in the morning blogging about the show. Quite honestly, a creative writing class this early in the morning probably wasn’t one of your brightest ideas.

From what you’d heard about the course from some upperclassmen in the Summer Society, your professor liked to give out a brief prompt for your final projects on the first day to give you all plenty of time to choose a subject and get in depth with your topic.

You arrive early apparently, because there are only three other students sitting scattered around the classroom when you walk in. You sit, pull out your notebook and start making random markings onto a blank page to occupy yourself. By the time you realize your random markings are turning into a sketchy version of a daffodil, the voice of your professor at the front of the classroom steals your attention. The flower is immediately forgotten in the back of your notebook and you turn back to the blank page at the front.

Your professor is five feet, eight inches of walking confidence. She’s scrawled ‘ _Professor Joyce’_ in pretty handwriting on the whiteboard and her voice carries through the room almost poetically as she introduces herself in a way that immediately demands your full attention. You set your pencil down and fold your hands into your lap. She has a volunteer hand around your syllabus for the semester and you follow along as she goes over it. Finally after she’s done, she looks up from the paper and her eyes scan over the entire class.

“As some of you may have heard, I’m going to give you the topic of your final project today and you’ll have the rest of the semester to work on it along with any and all other assignments I give you. Being that you’ll have a little over four months after today to complete this assignment that should be plenty of time.” The fact no one’s complained seems to please her because you catch a ghost of a grin on her lips. She then turns to write on the whiteboard again. When she’s finished she turns back to face the class.

It reads: _Meet someone new and write about this person._

_That’s it?_

As the thought goes through your mind, almost simultaneously a student next to you says it aloud. Your professor gives them a withering look.

“As a writer, you’re going to be given vague topics to write about all the time. What you make out of it will define your abilities as a writer. This assignment is a lot harder than it looks as I’m sure you’ll figure out.” The student next to you shrinks into their seat. “Anyway, that’s all I have for you today. I’ll give you the rest of the class to go home and start brainstorming.” Then she sits down at her desk and starts typing something into her computer. The rest of your class stands and starts packing up their things and you can’t help but feel a little cheated.

You’d dragged yourself out of bed to come into class and be told you could go back to your room. Great.

* * *

 

 **You go back to** your room and sleep for a few more hours. Then you go out and attempt to meet some new people to get a head start on your final project. As it turns out, meeting someone new who’d also make an interesting writing subject is a lot harder than it sounds.

Your plan had been to meet someone before lunch and get to know them a little bit so you could ease your way through your project early, but no one wanted to talk. Everyone had places to be or gave you annoyed looks. After your fifth shut down you decide to call it a day.

You go back to your room and sulk until you get a text from Lafontaine asking you if you want to meet them for lunch in the Caf. You agree figuring you might be able to find someone to talk to at lunch. There’s a fine layer of snow on the ground, so you grab a coat before you go and slide into a pair of boots.

On your way, you run into Danny. You actually walk right into her as she’s rounding a corner and she nearly knocks you over. Her hands fly to your shoulders to steady you and you find yourself staring up into a pair of concerned blue eyes. “Shit, Laura. Are you okay?”

“Oh, Danny.” You squeak, then you clear your throat in embarrassment. “Ahem, hi. Fine. _I’m_ fine.” She smiles, either ignoring or not noticing you attempting to keep your cool, and releases her hold on you.

“Is Betty in your room?” You shake your head. “Oh. Well, where you headed?”

“Oh, uh, Lafontaine invited me to lunch and I haven’t seen them since before break so I figured why not?”

“Cool. I was actually thinking about getting lunch. Mind if I tag along?” The prospect of having lunch with Danny _without_ Betty practically draped over her excites you. Even if there wasn’t a chance for a budding romance, Danny is still one of your friends. You like hanging out with her, just… Not when Betty’s around.

“I don’t think they’d mind.” You know they would because the tension between Lafontaine and Danny most of the time was unbearable. They’re completely different people honestly, and they naturally disagreed on everything.

Danny was a long distance runner on the track team and it fit her personality well. Everything was straight forward. Lafontaine was a natural scientist with their curiosity making them look for new angles in everything. Danny was careful. Lafontaine was reckless. They were opposites, and they clashed easily.  You know they tolerate each other’s presence because of you, but you like them both (in different ways) so you don’t bring it up to make things worse. Besides, Lafontaine knew about your crush on Danny from last semester and would understand you inviting her.

“Nice. I’ll just text Betty and see if she wants to meet us.” And just like that, your mood is again shattered.

“Right.” You say as neutral as you can manage. You walk with Danny from the dorms to the main dining area on campus that everyone just referred to as ‘The Caf.’ You make small talk about how her break had gone. She gushes about the prospect of internships and you listen to her talking about how excited she was about how great everything was going for her. You wish you could be as put together as she was, you barely know what you want to do with yourself. Granted, you were only in your first year, but…

 “Hey what’s up?” Danny asks bringing you back into focus. You realize she’s stopped talking about herself and you had unintentionally blocked her out, getting lost in your own thoughts.

“Nothing.” You finally answer. “Just a dumb problem with my final.”

“Final? It’s the first day.” Danny’s smiling good-naturedly. But for once, it does nothing to help.

“I know it’s just—It looks like this is going to take longer than I thought.” Her lips press into a thin line and she opens her mouth to say something when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn and see the wide grin of Lafontaine. They’ve cut their hair into something more tame from the wild red locks with shaved sides they’d been rocking last time you’d seen them. You know it’s only a matter of time before it grew back out but you do like how it looks now.

“Hey, La— Whoa, is something wrong?” They ask and you shrug.

“Well before you interrupted—” Danny starts and you cut her off before an argument can start.

“Just—My creative writing project is a lot harder than it had seemed at first.” Danny opens her mouth to say something else, but is cut off by Lafontaine.

“Well duh.” Lafontaine says. They look up and wave as Perry appears and makes her way towards the three of you. They lead you all into a line for the burger place on campus continuing where they left off before. “This is college, L. You can’t just expect everything to be cake walk.”

“I—”

“She knows that Lafontaine.” Danny says with a glare. You almost tell her you can speak for yourself but decide to leave it alone this time because she was just trying to help. Right? Lafontaine glares back and Perry ushers Lafontaine forward to pay for their food. (You ignore Danny buying food for Betty’s impending arrival.) You exchange an exasperated look with Perry before you all make your way to a table.

“Okay.” Lafontaine says as they sit and they bit into a fry. “What’s your prompt?”

“ _’Meet someone new and write about this person_.’” You tell them.

“That’s broad.”

“ _I know._ ” You lay your head down on the table and groan.

“Well you can’t just meet people willy-nilly. That’s your problem. You need to locate a target.”

“Lafontaine, people are not to be treated like target practice.” Perry interjects, giving Lafontaine a look of disapproval. “I was planning an event for our floor, maybe you try talking to one of your neighbors and ask one of them to help you with your project.”

“That’s boring.” Lafontaine replies. Perry looks offended. “Oh relax. This is a perfectly good way for Laura to find a good subject for her essay?” Perry gives you a look as if to ask you not to encourage them, you shrug in response and she huffs and rolls her eyes.

“Don’t be like that, Perry. Really, I’m willing to try anything out.”

“Well I’m going to go get some more napkins. And—Oh, hi Betty.” You turn your head and see Betty approaching the table as Perry leaves. You don’t look when Danny stands to greet her, instead focusing on Lafontaine and whatever idea they had to help you out.

 “Okay so how do we go about ‘finding a target?’” You ask.

“I’d go in depth but really this one is easy. You can tell who has a backstory today.” You furrow your eyebrows and try to look around discretely. You see the Zeta bros chanting a cheer as one of their brothers chugs a large carton of milk. You roll your eyes and move on to a couple of people from the alchemy club. One of them stands and starts yelling at another. You look to a group of ladies that laugh together at something one of them says. You sigh, giving up once again, and look back at Lafontaine.

“What exactly am I looking for here?”

“Are you even trying, Laura? I was trying to be discrete but look.” They lean across the table and point you in the direction they’re looking at. And your mouth forms into a small ‘o’.

You notice first the sunglasses covering her eyes and the white cane she parries back and forth as she walks. Her lips are pressed into a thin line and her free hand is clutching a bag of food from one of the campus food places. You note her head tilted more to the left and on her right side you see what looks like a scar stretching down to her upper lip. Her black, wavy hair is down past her shoulders, a dark colored beanie on her head. She wears a black long sleeves shirt with cuts along the sleeves and black skinny jeans with rips at the knees as if the cold outside isn’t a factor at all. But she does wear tightly laced up black combat boots.

You turn from looking at her back to Lafontaine who’s grinning at your clear scrutiny of this mystery girl.

“Her?” You finally ask. Lafontaine nods.

“Her.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little invasive to try and get a blind girls’ backstory just for a project?” Perry suddenly appears behind Lafontaine and sets the napkins down on the table. She takes a sip of her tea with a pointed look at you. Betty and Danny have settled and look where you’re still watching that girl. Her gaze turns in your direction momentarily. Even though you pretty sure she _can’t_ see you, you’re still surprised enough to snap your gaze back to Lafontaine quickly.

“That’s what the media’s about right, L?” Lafontaine leans across the table to poke your shoulder. You wince and rub it with a frown in their direction. They just grin at you.

“Not _necessarily_.”

“Are you going to try and talk to her or what?” You look from Lafontaine’s smile and Perry’s look of disapproval back to that girl. You watch as she slowly settles into a seat at an empty table. She leans her stick against the table and turns her gaze downwards as she reaches into the bag and pulls out a sandwich. As she starts to take a bite you stand.

You were going to go talk to her. You could totally do this.

“Wish me luck.”

“Luck!” Both Lafontaine and Perry call out after you, Perry less enthusiastically. Then you steel your nerves to walk over to her. You’re standing a few feet from her table, her left to you, and your nerves get the better of you. You stop and just watch her. She eats slowly like she’s savoring the taste of each bite. And she’s really beautiful. You can see the tight skin of a scar peeking above her sunglasses and onto her forehead up close.

You lick your lips and wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans. You could do this. You were a journalist. You could talk to this girl and ask her to be the subject of your paper. No problem.

“Hey.” You find yourself saying and you blush because you’d kind of yelled it. You clear your throat, watching the girl stiffen as you yell at her. She tilts her head to the left when you clear your throat but doesn’t turn to look in your direction.

“What do you want?” She asks. Her voice is cold. There’s a sort of weight to it that takes your breath away. You feel sweat building on your hands again and your wipe them on your jeans.

“I—Um—”

“Are you another one of those creative writing children looking for a story?”

“Well—”

“Ugh. I can hear the guilt in your voice. Get lost.” Your lips flap uselessly as you try and come up with a response. You’d been shut down before you’d even gotten to say anything.

“You didn’t even let me say anything.” You finally spit bitterly. She faces you then. You think the tone of your voice is what sparks her attention.

“You don’t need to. I don’t want any of you nosey little reporters in my life. I’m not going to be your project. Fuck off.” The girl turns her head back so she’s facing forward and she takes a bite of her sandwich, resuming her meal like you’d never even been there.

You’re so shocked that you just turn on your heel and walk stiffly back to your table. You sit back down in a dazed state and it takes a nudge from Danny to bring you back to focus.

“You okay?”

“Um, yeah just—”

“Did she shoot you down?” Lafontaine asks.

“Who Carmilla?” Danny asks. You feel a wave of defeat just now realizing you hadn’t even gotten her _name_ before she’d shot you down. You groan and rub your temples.

“She didn’t even let me start talking before she told me to leave.”

“Well I could have told you that.” Danny takes a gulp of her Gatorade and you all turn your attention to her.

“You know her?” Lafontaine asks and Danny rolls her eyes.

“Yeah. We were lab partners during first year. She was such a bitch. I was just trying to help her since, you know, _blind._ And she got all defensive like I was trying to change her diaper or something.” Danny scoffs and puts the lid back on her drink. “And it was too late to change partners so I had to deal with her all semester.”

Lafontaine offers you their fries and you take a handful.

“Well just because she’s blind doesn’t make her an angel, right?” They say. You sullenly stuff the fries into your mouth.

“I guess but still. You’d think she’d be a little grateful that I was trying to help out instead of letting her fend for herself.” Danny replies. Betty leans into her side.

“I’d let you help me out.”

“I’m sure.” Danny says with a grin and you roll your eyes. Lafontaine doesn’t miss that though they shake their head at you. Normally you might feel bad but instead you just lean your head against your open palm.

Lafontaine, Perry, Danny and Betty spend the rest of lunch tossing out other examples of people you could try and talk to for your project. Even though it’s best you move on, you can’t help but look back at Carmilla again. You watch as she finishes eating and stands to make her way to the trashcan. Then she leaves the Caf, managing to avoid physical contact with anyone.

You turn your attention back to the conversation in front of you as Lafontaine is arguing that the Alchemy Club “ _isn’t as bad as everyone makes them out to be_.”

“I have some things to go get started so I’m going to head out.” You interrupt. “See you guys later?” Lafontaine looks like they might try and persuade you to stay a little longer, but Perry lays a hand on their arm to stop them.

“See you later, Laura.” Perry moves her hand back into her lap and smiles. “Will we see you tomorrow for lunch again?”

“Maybe.” You stand and gather your trash. Danny waves you goodbye. Betty tells you she’ll see you later and then you turn to leave.

You feel like you’ve wasted your day, you hadn’t really gotten anything done. It’s only Syllabus Week so your classes won’t really keep you busy. You need this project to have something to focus on besides your non-existent love life and the other problems in your life that you choose to ignore.

What are you going to do?


	2. Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read following Hollence scene: Strictly Platonic.

**You don’t have any** ideas on how to get your project going. You don’t even have a good explanation for why you’re apparently shitty at meeting new people but it apprently turns out you are. You spend the better part of your first two weeks making attempts to meet people, but no one presents an interesting enough dynamic for your project.

You’re probably being picky. You’re also still thinking about Carmilla. She’d be the _perfect_ topic. Or at least she seemed to be. It’s weird, you’ve never wanted to dig into someone as much as you want to dig into Carmilla. You’re drawn to her without a single reason as to why you should be. You want to find out more about her. It isn’t your place. You know that. So you try and drop it, but you really can’t help what runs through your mind.

You’re sitting on the bleachers of the indoor track field watching Danny’s track practice. They usually hold closed practices, but the girls in the Summer Society like you so they always let you hang around if you want to.

You like watching people run. It’s such a fluid motion and so straight forward. You can remember when you were younger and how _freeing_ it felt. The pounding of your shoes on the concrete was an unspeakable feeling back then. You aren’t as athletic now and don’t exactly care to be. But watching other people run brought on an enjoyable feeling of nostalgia.

You watch Danny prepare to run an 800 with three other girls on her team. They all line up and crouch into their positions. You watch as Danny leans forward, weight on her right foot and she breathes evenly. Then their coach blows the whistle and all four girls push off their leading foot and take off. It’s amazing really. The sureness of their step, how focused they all look.

They finish within a few minutes with Danny in a close lead. They exchange high fives and check times, all looking pretty pleased with themselves as they catch their breath. Danny looks up into the bleachers and waves at you. Admittedly, your cheeks color as you wave back and you can see her wide smile from here. She says something to her coach and she waves her off. Then she’s coming up towards you.

You quickly sit up straight and close the notebook in your lap as she slides into the seat next to you.

“Hey, Laura. What’s up?”

“Just watching you guys run. You’re all amazing. I can see where all the medals come from.” Danny stares down at the toes of her shoes thoughtfully.

“Thanks, Laura.” She finally said. You nod and she smiles more to herself than at you. “Well, I was coming to ask if you wanted to go get pie after practice. I know we used to go when I was helping you out with class, but then I got busy and you got busy and we got a little distant. But I liked hanging out with you.”

“I—Yes, of course. I liked hanging out with you too, but things got busy at the end of the semester and I know I don’t really come to parties too much and—”

“No, Laura it’s cool. I get it, parties aren’t really your thing. I just figure I should invite you anyway just in case. You don’t have to come to those if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to pressure you or anything.”

“That’s not it at all. It’s just—” You start, trying to dig your way out of this awkward conversation, but she waves you off.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s cool. So we’re on for pie?”

“Definitely.”

“Cool, great. Um, I’ve got to get back to the track but… Wait for me after practice?” You nod eagerly and she stands. You wave as she walks down the stairs.

“Take care.” You call. She glances back once with a sweet smile before she joins her teammates back on the track. Only then do you berate yourself. “Ugh, ‘take care?’”

You open your notebook back up where you’d been keeping track of everyone you’d met in the past two weeks. You glare at the list and cross out the names one by one. All except for Carmilla. All you have is her first name and as nice a project subject she would make, a part of you wants to give up on that idea. She’d made it perfectly clear she wanted nothing to do with you.

You bite the inside of your cheek and with a huff, cross her name off your list and close your notebook. You were going to stop lingering on Carmilla Whatever-Her-Last-Name-Is starting now. You’re never going to get a head start on this project if you’re stuck lingering on _one possibility_. And you were going to stop worrying about your project for now. Because tonight you were going to get pie with your ex-crush and you were not going to embarrass yourself for once.

* * *

 

 **The cherry pie they** serve at the off campus place Danny takes you to is phenomenal. When the year had started, you’d asked Danny for a little help with a paper for your Lit course. It was honestly a ploy to get to know her better, but slowly grabbing a slice of pie with her on Wednesdays had started to become a thing. That was until Betty too started failing her classes and started joining in.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Betty. She was a good roommate as far as roommate went. She actually cleaned up after herself and followed the chore wheel you’d suggested. But it just… Sucked watching her loved up with the girl you’d inadvertently gotten a crush on. So you’d stopped going as often, finding excuses not to be there until Wednesday turned into a date night for Danny and Betty.

You suppose you can only blame yourself for that development.

It felt a little nice to be here without Betty. Just like old times. You take the first bite of the pie sitting between you and hum appreciatively.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you look _this_ happy.” Danny laughs and you have to smile.

“Who can frown when there’s _pie_ in front of them?” Danny laughs more and you mentally fist pump. _You aren’t making a completely fool of yourself!_

“You’re right about that.” She takes a bite and her grin widens. “God, I forgot how damn _good_ this is.”

“Right?” You spend a few comfortably silent moments getting halfway through your probably disproportionately sized slice of pie. (The owners seem to like you and Danny and give you huge slices rather than the normal size. They didn’t even charge you an extra cent for it.)

“So, making any progress on your Creative Writing project?” She asks. You sigh and bite the end of your fork.

“That would be a negative.”

“Damn. Do you have any ideas?”

“I mean, I’ve been talk to new people for the past two weeks, but I can’t see any of them being an interesting topic that I’d care to read about as a professor. I mean—It would be easy to just be lazy about it a write about anyone, but I don’t want to take the _easy_ path.”

“No, I get it.” Danny agrees. “I admire that, Laura.”

Before you can say something embarrassing, you notice a few seats away from you is a head of wavy black hair sitting across from a blonde girl. You wouldn’t think much of it honestly, except for the walking stick and the sunglasses framing her face. Just like last time, her left side is to you. So you can’t really see the scar you’re sure is there, but you know it’s her.

Your mouth dries immediately. Silas was a big campus. Aside from your apparent similar lunch schedules, you’d never expected to see her around. It wasn’t like you didn’t think she went out or anything. It was more the _seeing_ her doing it that catches you off guard.

“Thanks.” You finally say, turning your gaze from the side of Carmilla’s face back to Danny who’s scooping another forkful of pie into her mouth.

She nods and moves on to ask how your classes are going. You manage to keep conversation going despite you keeping an eye on Carmilla the entire time. You don’t know what you you’re planning to do, but you can feel the anticipation building in your stomach. So probably something impulsive and stupid.

You’re listening to Danny talk about some of the social events the Summer Society is planning when you see Carmilla stand and make her way towards the bathroom.

“Hey, do you mind if I hit the ladies room really quick?” You interrupt. Danny shakes her head.

“Oh no. Take your time. Do you want to order another slice or?”

“Um, I’ll let you know when I get back?”

“Yeah, sure. That works.”

“Okay, cool. I’ll—I’ll be right back.” You slide out of the booth quickly and all but run to the bathroom. Carmilla is coming out of one of the stalls with her walking stick tucked under her arm. Her head turns in your direction and you hold your breath. You start to walk past her to the stall to pretend to pee because whatever plan you’d had seemed really stupid now.

“Are you following me now, reporter?” Carmilla asks.

“What?” You stutter out.

“You’re the one who talked to me in the Caf, right?” She continues. She feels around and seems to breathe a sigh of relief at the motion detected faucet.

“I—Yeah. How did you know it was me?” She washes her hands before she answers. Then catch her eyes narrowing behind the shade of her sunglasses and she turns in both directions before opting to dry her hands on her pants.

“Well, cupcake, you have a distinctly annoying walk.”

“I do n—You can hear me walk?” Carmilla’s mouth pulls into a smirk at that, but it quickly falls into a deep frown.

“What do you want?” She asks instead of answering your question.

“Well you didn’t let me ask last time, so I was wondering if maybe you changed you mind.”

“Persistent, aren’t you?”

“In my field you kind of have to be.”

“Oh yeah? What field would that be?”

“Journalism. Investigative to be exact.” Carmilla steps towards you and you back up against the sink, your prior moment of confidence gone.

There’s something unnerving about this girl. She makes you feel off. Now that she’s closer to you, you can finally see her scar for the first time. It looks vicious. You’ve no idea what could have caused it, but the worst of it seems to disappear behind her sunglasses. It only seems to stretch on the right side of her face tampering off at the top of her lip. What you can see of her left side looks completely untouched. What you can see of it comes down across the rise of her chest.

For a moment you’re glad she can’t see you because you’re _really_ staring.

“So you want to make your living sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong? How noble.” You scrunch up your face in irritation.

“Hey. There are lot of advantages to investigative journalism for the people who we get information to. If it weren’t for investigative journalist more and more people would be ignorant to most of the events going on around the world and—Why am I even explaining myself to you?”

“Because you need something from me.”

“I don’t _need_ anything from you.”

“Then I guess we’re done here, aren’t we?” Carmilla stretches out her walking stick and start to move past you when you grab her wrist.

“Hey, wait—” A sort of venom immediately starts to radiate from Carmilla that makes your heart skip a beat. It’s repulsive and menacing and you’re unsure if she’d care if she could see the frightened look on your face.

“Don’t.” She rips her arm away from you. “Touch. Me.”

Then she moves past you and you don’t make another move to stop her. You feel sick, the vehement aura still lingered and you feel like your skin was crawling. It’s honestly a little scary how much that one tiny second of physical contact with her had affected you. You turn back to the mirror and see how pale you are. And you remember Danny sitting at the booth outside waiting for you.

“Get it together, Laura.” You whisper to yourself. You splash some water on your face. You find the paper towels and dry your face before you head back out.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Danny asks. You look back to where Carmilla had been with the blonde but they’re already gone and your stomach turns.

“I’m feeling a little sick. Do you mind if we go ahead and?”

“Yeah, no we can totally go. Good thing I didn’t order that second slice then, right?” You laugh with her and she flags down a waitress to pay.

“You don’t have to—”

“Hey, I got this.” You want to argue. But she’s smiling at you and it makes you feel a little special so you nod. Then Danny stands and you walk with her back to your dorm. And you try and forgot how you’d fucked up with Carmilla.

* * *

 

 **Regardless of you doing** everything you can to distract yourself from what had happened between you and Carmilla last night, you can’t seem to get it out of your head. It bothers you so much when you get back to your dorm and Betty practically shoves her tongue down Danny’s throat before asking her how practice had gone, you hardly even blink. You just throw in your headphones and work on some of your homework for your math class.

When you join your friends for lunch the next day, you can hardly bring yourself to eat any of the delicious smelling pasta sitting on a plate in front of you. You poke the pasta with your fork and watch as Perry snatches a pair of matches from Lafontaine’s hands when they try and light their food on fire ‘for science.’

Danny and Betty aren’t with you today which you’re grateful for because Danny would surely ask you what was wrong and you _really_ didn’t want to talk about it. Lafontaine and Perry had asked but you told them it wasn’t important so they left you alone. Danny was one to press you until you spilled, they respected your need to keep things to yourself.

You’re just forcing a mouthful of noodles into your mouth then you hear a thud, a cry of pain and a gasp. You turn and see a guilty looking Zeta standing just behind Carmilla who’s on the ground. Her walking stick has fallen a couple feet away from her outstretched hand. Somehow her sunglasses haven’t been displaced, but her hands feel wildly for the cane that’s nowhere within her reach.

The once loud cafeteria now seems to be holding its breath. It only takes a second but Carmilla mutters a curse and the Zeta starts spitting off apologies.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—” His hand touches her shoulder and she practically snarls at him. He withdrawals his hands looking like he’d just been bitten.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” She growls. “Where is my—Fuck!” She tries to push herself up when the Zeta you recognize as Kirsch from your Lit class last semester comes up to the Zeta who seems to have knocked Carmilla over and shoves him in the chest.

“What the fuck, Will? You don’t trip blind girls.” Carmilla’s arm collapses from underneath her at the name with a small yelp. You’re shrugging on your coat and running towards her before you even realize you’ve gotten up.

“It was an accident.” Will tries to defend.

“Not cool.” Kirsch continues. You glare up at him.

“Go away, Kirsch.” You crouch down beside Carmilla. You look from her to the bodies around you and see everyone’s still watching you. You glare a little harder but you’re more than aware you’re not really threatening. If they weren’t going to be helpful, why were they just going to _stare_?

“Fine, fine.” Kirsch replies. He shoves Will again who ducks his head, clearly ashamed of himself. “Hey.” He gestures for you to come closer to him. You do and he leans down to whisper in your ear. “Can you tell the scary hottie that we’re really sorry and that the Zetas will personally escort her around campus to make up for it?”

“I’ll tell her but I’m sure she’ll decline. No one likes your escorts, Kirsch.”

“Pfft. _Whatever_. See you around, little nerd.” He pats your head and you swat him away indignantly. _God_ , he was aggravating. You turn back to Carmilla who’s sitting up on an elbow. You can see her eyebrows knit over the tops of her sunglasses.

“Hey are you—” You start but she cuts you off.

“I’m _fine_. I don’t need your help, buttercup.”

“Fine.” You start to stand up and Carmilla attempts to put weight on her left leg. She sucks in a breath and stops immediately.

“Fucking Zetas not watching where the fuck their going.” She mutters under her breath.

“Hey, let me help you. Stop being stubborn.” You don’t make a move to touch her though. After the venomous ‘ _Don’t. Touch. Me.’_ you’d gotten last night and the one you’d just heard her spit at Will, you don’t want to touch her without permission. Even if you’re just helping her up, her consent was important here. You watch her bite her lip but you can’t tell what she’s thinking since you can’t see her eyes.

“Fine.” She whispers just as you’re about to give up and go back to your table. It’s a little awkward. Carmilla is trying her best to stand on her own with the least amount of help from you as possible. As soon as she’s standing, she tries to take a step and nearly collapses putting weight on her left leg again. Her arm immediately wraps around your neck and you take her weight.

“Just lean against me I’m not carrying anything contagious.”

“I don’t know. I heard annoying is a deathly contagious disease.” Carmilla smirks at her own joke and you have to purse your lips not to smile.

“Hey, I could drop you right now you know.”

“But you won’t.” The surety of her voice almost annoys you because she’s not wrong. You’re _not_ going to drop her. You’re not that kind of person. So instead you ignore her remark.

“I’m gonna walk you to the Health Building.”

“No way.”

“Come on, Carmilla. You can barely walk. You might be really hurt.”

“I’m sure if I just suck it up I’ll be fine.”

“Carmilla, seriously? I’m not leaving until you let me take you to the Health Center.”

“Fine.” She snaps. “Can you at least find my walking stick because I kind of need it.” You roll your eyes but start to move forward and you hand Carmilla off her walking stick. You look back to your friends as you start to lead Carmilla from the Caf and see Lafontaine shooting you a thumbs up. You shake your head at them.

You aren’t doing this for your project. You were helping someone in need. Laura Hollis was never one to leave anyone in need on their own.

“Do you have a coat?”

“No.”

Of _course_ she didn’t.

* * *

 

 **About a quarter of** the way to the health center, someone rolls a wheelchair towards the two of you and leaves without a word. You call out a thank you and you get a wave in return.

“What is it?”

“A wheelchair?” You answer. “So let’s—”

“Oh, hell no. You’re not pushing me around in a wheelchair. I can walk.”

“Ugh, why are you so stubborn?” You start to release your hold on her accidentally in your frustration and she falls into your side from how heavily she’d been leaning on you. “See, you’re barely standing. Just sit down and we can get this done a lot faster.”

Carmilla looks like she wants to argue more but instead clenches her teeth and lets out a long sigh.

“Help me into the stupid wheelchair.” You can’t help but smile as you do, maneuvering her into the chair and she sits down heavily. You get the feeling she’d never admit it, but relief spreads onto her features. You push her in the wheelchair the rest of the way to the Health Center in pretty comfortable silence. Carmilla drums her fingers against the armrest rhythmically and hums something under her breath that you can’t quite hear.

It takes a while, but eventually you’re wheeling her through the glass doors of the Health Center. No one’s there and the student who’s been designated to front desk looks bored as he clicks through something on the computer. He looks up when you push Carmilla up to his desk.

“What’s up?” You frown at his tone. He’s looking at Carmilla with a mix of curiosity and something you could probably call thirst. She doesn’t face him, instead keeping her head turned to the side and an ear tilted up towards the two of you.

“My frie—” Nope. “Associ—” Still no. “ _She_ hurt her leg.” When you look down at Carmilla, you catch the ghost of a grin on her lips as your stumbling over your words and you glare at her. “We—I was hoping someone could take a look at it.”

“Does _she_ have a name?” He asks.

“Carmilla—”

“Karnstein.” Carmilla provides. You mentally make a note of the last name. It sounds vaguely familiar but you shake the thought from your head.

“Wait out here. One of the nurses will be with you shortly.” He replies. You wheel Carmilla back towards one of the chairs and she leans on the armrest with a deep frown. You manage to remain silent for a few seconds before you start asking questions.

“So what’s your major?” Carmilla’s jaw clenches and you think she’s going to ignore you for a second. Then she licks the corner of her mouth before she answers.

“Philosophy.” For whatever reason that doesn’t really surprise you.

“What made you get into that?”

“What could be better than studying the nature of this sad world we live in?”

“The world isn’t all bad.” You say and she huffs.

“I’m sure everything in your life is just _perfect_. But for those of us in the real world, it’s a pretty shitty existence.”

“Hey, you don’t even know me. Don’t write off my struggles like you have any idea what I’ve lived through.” Carmilla pokes her lips out slightly in thought, then she frowns.

“Why do you care what I do?” She asks instead of the apology you’re hoping for.

“I’m just trying to make conversation…”

“I don’t need you to babysit me. I’ve been fine on my own for a while. I can handle this.”

“No way. I’m not going anywhere. And even you being rude and ungrateful isn’t going to stop me.” Carmilla snorts and that’s when someone calls her name.

“Carmilla Karnstein.” Carmilla just raises a hand in response.

“This is her.” You jab a thumb in Carmilla’s direction.

“Okay we can take you in the back to get a look at your ankle to see if it’s broken, but from there if it’s too bad you’ll have to go to a real hospital to get a cast.”

“Perfect.” Carmilla grumbles.

“Do you want to come back with her, miss?” The nurse ignores Carmilla’s attitude and turns to you.

“Well, I don’t think she wants me around so I might—”

“Wait.” Both you and the nurse look at Carmilla in surprise. “She can come.”

Your mouth flaps open uselessly in confusion. You were just going to leave because Carmilla had been reluctant to speak to you since you’d helped her up. You didn’t want to push your clearly unwanted presence onto her and make her hate you even more.

“Are you sure?” You ask.

“Yeah.” She snips. “Can we just go?”

The nurse starts to reach for the handles of Carmilla’s wheelchair but you step forward. You give her a short nod to tell her you’ve got it and she leads you back to one of the rooms. Carmilla sits in dejected silence. The nurse leaves you alone for a bit before returning to take Carmilla’s height and weight which she manages without protest. (You notice all complaints had stopped once she gave you permission to stick around.)

Carmilla sits nervously in one of the chairs and you stand beside her. You don’t stay anything at first, but she’s drumming her fingers against her thigh in a similar fashion to how she had been earlier against her wheelchair.

“Hey.” You finally say.

“What?” She snaps back and you wince slightly at the bite of her tone.

“I was just—Are you okay?”

“Well my ankle might be fucked.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I’m fine, cupcake. Just not the biggest fan of hospitals. It—” Her fingers had stopped once she started talking to you, but then they start back up drumming on her leg and don’t stop. “It smells too clean here. It’s unnatural.”

“You can smell that kind of stuff?” Carmilla actually huffs out a short laugh.

“When you lose one of your senses, some of your other senses get better to compensate. Or something like that.”

“Oh.” There’s a pause and it feels like something had shifted between you and Carmilla. You seeing this bit of vulnerability from her after seemingly making her hate your guts just yesterday, you feel amazing. You’re about to ask another what other things she can smell when the nurse walks back in.

“Miss, you can wait here. We’re just going to take Carmilla to get an x-ray and then we’ll see how badly she’s hurt.”

“Oh, okay.” You sit down and watch as Carmilla is led from the room and the door shuts behind her.

* * *

 

 **As it turns out,** her ankle _isn’t_ broken. Just slightly sprained and Carmilla seems to breathe a sigh of relief. They wrap it and suggest she take it to a hospital regardless to check up on everything, but once you’ve left with her she immediately says she’s not doing that.

“I mean, I know you don’t like hospitals, but why not?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve—I’ve had worse.” You look at the scar on her face then and wonder again what happened to her. Everything in you is dying to ask, but you can’t do that. That would be too invasive, especially considering you aren’t even friends.

“Do you want me to walk you home?”

“I don’t need an escort home, I’ve been doing fine the past three years on my own.”

“Well I know that. It’s just—Well, I want to. No one should have to be alone all the time.” You look up to the setting sun and miss Carmilla’s face softening with surprise. You miss the way her mouth falls open. By the time you look back at her, she’s already hardened her expression again. She’s walking slowly next to you with a crutch taking her weight on her left side and parrying her walking stick back and forth.

“Fine. But don’t expect cocoa and cookies. I’m not hosting you.”

“That’s fine.” You stuff your hands into your pockets and walk with her in comfortable silence. “So where do you live?”

“Silas Apartment Complex. Room 307.”

“You live just off campus.”

“Yes, creampuff.” She answers. She’s a little out of breath from the sheer amount of effort she has to exert so you decide not to continue your interrogation. It takes a while for you to finally get back to Carmilla’s apartment. It had been a few hours and the sun is disappearing behind the horizon. You stop outside her building and Carmilla turns in your direction.

“I suppose I should say thank you for making sure I got back here alright.”

“That was more me being persistent than anything else, but you’re welcome.” Carmilla doesn’t say anything for a second, seemingly having an inner debate with herself.

“Look I guess I could possibly consider helping you out with your project. Your voice isn’t that annoying, and I owe you one. Sort of.”

“You’re so articulate.” You tease.

“You know what. Never mind.” Carmilla starts to turn away from you. You reach out and touch her arm. You immediately expect her to recoil but instead she just pauses. You pull your hand away.

“Carmilla, I was kidding. Come on.” You get the urge to nudge her but she’s standing a little unsteadily on her one crutch.

“If I agree to be your buddy for this project of yours, you’re going to have to feed me.”

“That I can do.”

“Then it looks like we’ve got ourselves a deal.”

“Oh my God.” You just can’t help it. You wrap your arms around her in a tight hug. She stumbles. “Thank you so much. You won’t regret this I promise.”

“I get the feeling I might.”


	3. Friends?

**Of course, Lafontaine interrogates** you about your trip to the Health Center with Carmilla when you finally have lunch with them and Perry the following day (Betty and Danny had other plans). You’d thought of possibly avoiding lunch for them so you wouldn’t have to deal with the questions you knew they’d ask, but you figure you may as well bite the bullet and get it over with. The longer you avoided lunch with them, the more they’d tease you for it.

So you meet Lafontaine and Perry outside your dorm and walk to the Caf with them. You’re wearing gloves today because it’s snowing again on top of the couple of inches that had fallen overnight. Despite your worries, Lafontaine doesn’t say anything on the topic for a while though they’d given you a pointed look when you’d met them. Instead they talk to Perry who’s worried about what activity she could do to get the girls in your dorm together. Once Perry decides on a movie night, Lafontaine turns back to you.

“So how’d it go with Mrs. Broody yesterday?” They nudge you gently with an elbow. You turn your eyes from the ground in front of you to their curious blue eyes. You hold eye contact with them for a moment before you look down to the toes of your boots. “You sprang up pretty quick to help her.”  They continue.

“She could barely stand up and no one else was making a move to help.” You mumble in your own defense. “What did you expect me to do?” They scoff in return.

“Are you sure you didn’t just help because you wanted something from her?” The implication makes you blush.

“Come on, Laf.” You nudge them with a shoulder. “You know I’m not like that.”

“Yeah, _I_ know that. _She_ doesn’t.” You chew on your lip. Lafontaine had a point. Carmilla didn’t know the full intentions behind your decision to help her. Even if you know your project hadn’t been on your mind when you’d stood up, for all Carmilla knew that was all you cared about. And that you’d only helped her to make her feel obligated to let you write about her. You bury your nose in the scarf wrapped around your neck and your stride slows.

“I didn’t do it for my project.” You say. “I told her that. She offered to help me though.”

“Is she okay?” Perry asks before Lafontaine can add in another word. She’d been making notes in her phone for herself and now her full attention was on you and Lafontaine. You nod.

“Yeah. She’d just sprained her ankle a bit. She’ll live. They gave her a crutch at the health center to help her walk.”

“It will be difficult for her to get around trying to balance a crutch and a walking stick.” The thought hadn’t even occurred to you. You’d gotten her number before you’d left her at her apartment building the previous afternoon. You have the urge to call her to see if she’s okay, but you have to remind yourself that Carmilla didn’t appreciate any amount of pity and ultimately decide against it.

When you don’t respond, Lafontaine goes back to talking to Perry about their latest test results on whatever personal project they’d gotten themselves into in one of their courses. Perry smiles and nods politely, but looks as lost as you feel on Lafontaine’s science speak. You finally arrive at the Caf a few minutes later and get to the doors first. You hold them open for Lafontaine who then holds them for Perry. You shed your coats and carry them into your respective lines for food. Before you can head off to order yourself a sandwich, Lafontaine’s hand grips your shoulder.

“Hey, for the record, I knew you had it in you, L. Breaking down the walls of one of the mysteries of Silas. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even get to hear her tragic backstory.”

“Who says she has a tragic backstory?” You ask and they outright laugh.

“With a scar like that? There has to be a story. If I wasn’t slightly afraid she could take off those glasses and reveal some Cyclopes type powers, I would ask her myself and maybe get some skin samples.”

“What?”

“Lafontaine!” Perry calls from a few feet away before you can really process that last part of what Lafontaine had said. “Do you think I should go with a salad or some pasta?”

“Both!” They start to follow after Perry but spare a glance back at you. “Oh, we’ll meet you at the table?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you there.” You turn back into line and look out at the tables. You don’t really realize you’ve been looking for Carmilla until you see she’s not there. You bite the inside of your cheek and pull your phone from your pocket before you can stop yourself. You hadn’t used her number yet, not wanting to seem too eager but your curiosity on how she was doing is getting the better of you. So you call her.

She picks up just as you figure she’s going to ignore your call.

“What?” Carmilla growls.

“Is that really how you answer the phone?”

“It’s how I answer when _you’re_ the one calling.”

“Gee, how sweet.” You can practically hear her shit eating grin through the phone.

“I don’t have to be sweet. It’s only you.” A beat passes while you’re trying to think of an equally rude comeback, but she speaks again before you can answer her. “What do you want anyway?”

“I was just wondering if you’re coming to lunch today. Maybe you could sit with me and my friends.”

“No. I’m not going to be on campus today. No Tuesday or Thursday classes here, sweetheart. And why would I want to eat with your friends anyway?”

“My friends are nice!”

“Yeah, whatever. No, I’m not coming to the Caf today. Does that answer your question?”

“Well, yeah but—”

“Of course there’s a but.”

“ _But_ I wanted to hang out. We could get to know each other a little better.” Carmilla is silent for a few moments before she answers you.

“Whatever. Meet me at my apartment around five. Remember to bring money because dinner’s on you.”

“Oh yeah. Don’t worry about that, I’ve got it.” You lick your lips as you move forward in line. “Thank you for this Carmilla. I won’t make you regret it.”

“I’m sure, cupcake. See you later.”

“Yeah, later.” You end the call just as you make it to the front of the line to order your food.

* * *

 

 **What is it about** the way a person looks framed by the setting sun that’s so breathtakingly beautiful? You’re already a fan of sunsets as it is. The way the colors bleed out against the sky before the light is gone and replaced by the bright stars in the sky… It’s a sight you take in every chance you get.

But seeing Carmilla standing almost illuminated by that scene was… It was something else. Her curly hair is piled up into a messy bun on top of her head and she’s wearing ripped skinny jeans again, but she’s actually wearing a baggy coat today. Carmilla’s wearing a different pair of sunglasses today, they look more expensive than her other Ray Bans if possible. Her walking stick is tucked under her right arm while she holds her phone in her left with one earbud in.

Carmilla looks really good. Like insanely good. Suddenly you feel nervous. You want her to like you. You want to impress her and you don’t know why.

“She’s just a really pretty girl with a bad attitude. Who your project kind of depends on. No big deal.” You whisper to yourself. _Great pep talk_. You clear your throat once before you call out to her. “Hey!”

Carmilla turns her head towards you, simultaneously sliding her phone into her back pocket. When she turns to face you, her expression doesn’t shift the slightest to give you any indication on how she’s feeling. You find it frustrating how impossible she is to read.

“Hey.” She finally returns and you try not to sigh.

“Uh, how are you?”

“Must we make pointless small talk?” She sighs. Her hand rises to scratch the back of her head as she frowns at you.

“It’s—It’s not pointless. Maybe I’m actually concerned about how you’re doing since you seem to have ditched your crutch. Which, by the way, I don’t think—”

“Slow down, cutie. I just woke up a few hours ago and you’re talking way too much.”

“It’s five pm.” You answer.

“Is it?” She responds. You don’t answer her at first because it looks like she’s going to continue. When she doesn’t, you open your mouth to ask if she’s ready to go and she finally continues. “Is the sun setting?”

Her tone is almost wistful and you look past her to the bleeding red sky. It’s a beautiful sight. You remember then that she can’t see it and your heart clenches a little in your chest. How could you keep forgetting such an important fact?

“Yeah… Yeah it is.”

“Is it still as beautiful as I remember?” You swallow slowly. So she hadn’t always been blind. That news was both informative and saddening. You have no idea how you’d feel if you, by some accident, ended up losing your vision. You were so dependent on it. The adjustment would be so hard…

“It’s gorgeous, Carmilla.” The corner of her lip starts to pull into a small smile, but it’s gone just as soon as you see it. Instead she lets out a breath and turns her face up towards the sky. She silent for a few moments and you shift on your feet patiently. Eventually she turns back towards you.

“Well, let’s go. I’m starved.”

* * *

 

 **As it turns out** , Carmilla is a messy eater. You’re glad she can’t actually see you because you’re scrunching up your face in disgust watching her practically shovel her burger and fries down her throat. She burps every now and then without a care in the world and you wonder if the concept of _manners_ has ever occurred to her.

“People are staring.” You tell her.

“So?” She slurps her soda and feels around the table for a napkin. You’re tempted to press one into her hand but figure she won’t appreciate your helpfulness. She finds it quickly and wipes at her mouth.

“ _So_ I wanted to eat dinner like civilized human beings and get to know each other and you’re being… Gross.”

“Take it or leave it sweetheart. _I’m_ the one doing _you_ a favor.”

“We’re both doing each other favors because _I’m_ paying for your food.”

“I could pay for my own food if I really needed to. _You_ need _me_ for your project.”

Well she’s got you there. You frown and cross your arms. Carmilla’s lips twist into a smirk then she laughs.

“Are you pouting?”

“What? No. I don’t—I don’t pout.”

“I think you’re lying.”

“I am most definitely _not_ lying.” Carmilla’s fingers drum against the table.

“You know your voice goes up a good half octave when you’re lying, sweetheart. You might want to work on that technique.” Your lips flap uselessly searching for the comeback you don’t have. She’s caught you and you have nothing to say for yourself. She laughs at your silence and you flush. “You are incredibly easy to work up, cupcake.”

“You’re infuriating.” You reply and she shrugs.

“No one’s making you stay.”

“Are you just going to keep rubbing how much I need you in my face?”

“Yes.” Carmilla’s lips pull into an almost genuine smile and she pops another fry into her mouth. “But as a gesture of good faith, I’ll answer three of your questions today.”

“Only three?”

“Only three. Make ‘em count.” Carmilla leans back in her chair and crosses her arms over her chest while you try and think. You definitely have more than three questions, like way more. You wanted to know _everything_. Carmilla was a complete mystery to you. You don’t know what circle she usually hangs out with. Or what she likes to do with her free time. Hell, you don’t even know how old she is or her favorite color.

So you had to decide between something in depth or a tiny detail. You could do a little of both. That would definitely work. You rub your sweaty palms on your jeans before linking your fingers in your lap.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.” _Oh that would make her—_

“A third year?”

“Is that one of your questions?”

“No, no, no. Don’t cheat me out of my questions, Carmilla.” Her smile is warming and you feel your heartbeat quicken.

“I was just messing with you. Yes, I’m a third year. Two more questions.” Two more. Go big or go home, right?

“Early you said you remembered the sunset, so you haven’t always been blind?” Carmilla’s amused expression drops immediately and her jaw clenches. You immediately wish you could take it back. You have no idea what could have caused this reaction for a few slow seconds, then you are suddenly overly aware of her scars and you feel like an _idiot._ “You don’t have to answer that. I’m—”

“No. I haven’t always been blind.” She swallows hard after she’s bitten out the words. “One more question.” You watch Carmilla grope around for her drink until her fingers brush against the glass. Her fingers close around it and she lifts it to her mouth to take a long drink. She swallows slowly and sets her glass down again. You decide to use your last question on something light in an attempt to calm her back down.

“I read that blind people don’t really use braille anymore? Is that true?” The tension leaves Carmilla’s shoulders at your less invasive question and you breathe a small sigh. You’d fucked up apparently with that second question and you make a mental note not to ask her about it again.

“I used braille a lot more in grade school. But technology has advanced to the point it’s not really as necessary. I mean granted knowing which restroom to go into is nice. But for reading novels? Not so much.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well there’s this new thing around called _audiobooks_.” You scrunch your face up at the sarcastic tone of her voice. “Not sure if you’ve ever heard of them but—”

“Okay, I get it. Audiobooks are a thing.” Carmilla’s lips purse as she tries not to laugh. “Is there anything you’ve listened to recently?”

“Nope. I can’t stand the voices on most audio recordings on books. And the computer generated one is like dragging a nail on chalkboard.”

“Oh. So there are certain voices that sound better than others?” You know you’re definitely barreling past that three questions limit Carmilla had set, but she’s still answering you. You’re not going to stop her now. Especially not when you were actually learning something and she was willingly giving you answers.

“Of course.” Carmilla says like it’s the more obvious thing in the world, and maybe it is. “For you there are certain sounds or music that you like better than others right?”

“Well I do prefer lady singers…”

“Was that a hint at something, sweetheart?”

“What— No, I wasn’t—”

“ _Kidding_. Is this how you always react to teasing because I don’t want to be the reason you have a heart attack?”

“I—”

“Anyway,” This cutting you off before you could speak thing was getting old fast. “That’s exactly my point. I’m sure, whether you’ll admit it or not, there are some people’s voices you find displeasing. For instance that idiot frat boy who knocked me over had the voice of Satan.” Carmilla fingers draw small circles in the table for a second and she nibbles on the side of her lip in a way that almost looks thoughtful. Then she speaks again. “Yours isn’t so bad.” She admits.

You feel your eyebrows raise and you breathe a small, “Oh.”

Carmilla’s cheeks color at that and you can’t help the grin that spreads on your face.

“Are you, Carmilla Karnstein, actually blushing?”

“No. Shut up.”

“Aww you’re—”

“Remind me never to compliment you again.” Even Carmilla’s defensive attitude right now couldn’t possibly ruin that fact that _she likes your voice_. You watch her silently while the blush on her cheeks dies down.

For the first time, you look from Carmilla to other people in the restaurant. You catch the stolen glances at the two of you. The sad looks on their faces when the look at Carmilla. Someone shoots you an encouraging smile and a thumbs up and you’re briefly taken aback. You actually gasp and Carmilla’s embarrassed look shifts to confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“Is it always like this?”

“Like… What?”

“Like,” How should you put this? “People always feeling sorry for you? We keep getting weird looks.” Carmilla’s eyebrow twitches just above her sunglasses.

“I wouldn’t exactly know about the looks now would I, sweetheart?”

“Jesus, Carmilla. It was a slip of the tongue. Are we gonna do this every—”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“The feeling sorry part. That is a usual thing.”

“Oh. That’s sucks.”

“That just about sums that up. I know what kind of looks I get, creampuff. People look at me and see someone who’s broken. And, even if they’d never admit it, I make them feel better about their lives. They think, ‘ _Hey, at least I’m not blind.’_ ” Carmilla scoffs. “I’m not some fragile child who needs to be coddled and escorted everywhere. I can handle myself.”

It’s the most open thing Carmilla’s said to you so far, even if it had been a rant. It makes you wonder again exactly when and how she’d gotten blind. It makes you wonder what she’s been through. The loss makes you think of your mom. You feel a chill as the thought goes through your head and you push it aside.

Not now.

“I’m sorry.” You tell her. You get the urge to reach for her hand, but the clench in Carmilla’s jaw at your words keeps your hands in place on your lap.

“You don’t need to be. I’m fine.” She pauses and her fingers drum nervously against the table again. You look to her hands to her face as she finishes. “At least I’m alive.”

There’s a weight to those words you’re not sure you want to get into. You’re sure you shouldn’t all things considered. You’ve barely known Carmilla a day. If she was going to tell you her backstory, it would be on her own terms. You have your own skeletons, and you wouldn’t want people digging through yours.

“Do you want to go get pie?” You ask to change the topic

“Still hungry?”

“Not necessarily. But that night at O’Reilly’s when you got mad at me, I saw you were with—With someone. So I figure you like it. I mean. Pie is usually a thing I do with Danny but—”

“You’re friends with the Ginger Giant?”

“I—That’s not very nice, Carmilla.” Carmilla doesn’t say anything for a second. Then she smirks and your heart jumps to your throat in a way that makes you feel like you’ve done something wrong.

“Do you have a crush her?”

“What? No. I don’t—”

“You are actually the worst liar on the planet.”

“I don’t _like_ Danny. She’s just a friend. Anyway we don’t have to get pie if you’re going to—”

“No. You brought it up. We’re going to get pie.”

“Fine.”

“Before we go, let me tell you something, cupcake. Here’s the thing with people, they look at me like a helpless child and when I reject their pity, they get offended. People want to help me to feel better about whatever shit they’re going through themselves. And I’m not exactly fond of the idea needing a crutch.” She pauses, and you feel like she’s staring into you despite her unseeing gaze. “You seem genuine. So I won’t end this brief companionship. Don’t let me down.”

The last sentence feels more like a request than a demand and you find yourself nodding before you remember again that _she’s blind_.

“Right. Of course not.”

“Okay. Now get our waitresses attention because the idea of a slice of cherry pie is sounding really good right now.”

* * *

 

 **“What do you mean** you’ve never read Harry Potter?” After your change in location, and watching Carmilla eat her way through two slices of pie. (For someone so small, she could eat _a lot_.) You’d shifted to more mundane topics rather than the more serious questions that lingered in the back of your mind.

As it turns out, Carmilla has about the exact interests you’d assumed she would. As it turns out, Carmilla loves the finer things in life. Music, poetry and reading old texts. Though finding out she could sing was definitely unexpected. And she blatantly ignores popular culture.

Which means she’s never paid attention to the books that have been a _huge_ part of your life. You couldn’t help but be a bit personally offended.

“I’m not interested in the happenings of a made up fantasy word where they believe magic is a thing.” Carmilla snarks. She lifts her fork to her mouth and licks the remnants of her pie from it.

“That’s so _boring_. You’ve never even tried them?” Carmilla bites the end of her fork for a moment.

“Admittedly I have… Someone tried and introduce them to me. But I already told you. The voices on audio recordings are horrid.”

“What if there was a voice you _liked_ on an audio recording of the book?” You ask and Carmilla gives you a half smile.

“Why do you want me to ‘experience’ these books so badly?”

“Because they’ve been a big part of my life and maybe I want up to be friends who try out each other’s hobbies. You don’t have to like them, but it won’t kill you to try them.”

“Fine.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah. Find me a recording with someone’s voice who isn’t annoying and I’ll _try_ them. If only to get you to stop whining.” You grin to yourself. Who would’ve thought she’d actually be _cordial_ about this? “Why isn’t there another slice of pie on my plate?”

You roll your eyes but stand to go order her another slice of cherry pie. And you wonder how long it would take to record yourself reading aloud the entire Harry Potter series.

* * *

 

 **You meet Carmilla again** thefollowing Sunday. Unfortunately your lunch plans are cancelled by a sudden hailstorm. Your dorm is closer than Carmilla’s apartment, so you lead her back there to wait out the hail. Carmilla is considerably grumpy about not getting a real meal and she sneers at your offer of peanut butter and graham crackers as you’re walking up the stairs.

“Your diet is something a ten year old dreams of.” She says.

“Well considering my Dad was a health nut and didn’t let me snack much as a child, this is _exactly_ the diet ten year old me dreamed of.” You glance back at her once before approaching your door. Carmilla stops as soon as you do, probably hearing your footsteps stop. “If you don’t want any you could just say no.”

Carmilla doesn’t respond to that so you turn and unlock your door. Carmilla walks inside right behind you. She turns in both directions, pausing a few seconds as she faces each side. Then she moves to your side of the room and immediately sits on your bed.

“Hmm. Comfy.” Carmilla says, clearly getting comfortable. She grabs your (favorite) yellow pillow and lays it down in her lap.

“How did you know that was my side?” You ask as you sit down at your computer chair. She leans back on her palms and purses her lips thoughtfully.

“Your roommate’s side smells obnoxiously like perfume.”

“Do you pay attention to the way I smell?” You ask with a smirk. Carmilla frowns and lays back on your bed.

“It’s not like I can see you. I differentiate people two ways, cupcake. Sounds and scent. Scent is… Less prominently. But it’s still there.” Carmilla stops for a moment before she continues. “You make it sound like I’m just sniffing you for pleasure purposes.” You blush then.

“I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Whatever. What exactly are we supposed to do here?”

“Uh…” How were you supposed to entertain someone who couldn’t see? You usually read or watched something if you were bored, went on the internet in some cases. You couldn’t do that with Carmilla. At least you didn’t think she could. Carmilla turns to you and cocks her head.

“Anytime now sweetheart.”

“Can you watch movies?” Carmilla presses her lips together immediately. She turns away from you before she answers.

“Ever heard of a thing called Audio Descriptor?”

“No.” Carmilla sighs and you blush.

“Essentially it’s an audio recording of a movie or television show that narrates the events shown on the video. The fun part about those is that, the voices are usually tolerable. But I don’t suppose you have any audio description versions of movies lying around.”

“What they don’t have the audio descriptions or whatever on the DVDs?”

“Dammit. You’re smarter than you sound.” _Rude_. “I was hoping to get out of this.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“I’m unsure we have similar movie interests.”

“Oh come on.” You first find the stack of DVDs beneath your desk. Then you pick up your laptop and slide onto your bed next to Carmilla. She scoots to the side to make room for you and you set down your laptop. “I’m sure you can enjoy _Kill Bill_ just as much as the next person.”

Carmilla pouts thoughtfully and for once you don’t second guess the thought of how damn  _cute_ she looks as it runs through your mind. Carmilla really is insanely beautiful. Not essentially in just a physically attractive sense either, even with the scar on her face there’s something about Carmilla that’s just so aesthetically pleasing. She drums her fingers rhythmically against her thigh before she turns just slightly towards you.

“Fine.”

“Yeah?” Your lips spread into a grin. Carmilla’s cheeks color.

“Don’t make such a big deal out of it. If we don’t watch a movie we’ll probably sit here in silence and you’ll ask to paint my nails or something.”

“I’ll have you know my nails definitely aren’t painted.”

“Wow. Such pertinent information.” You nudge her with your shoulder rather than verbally replying and she smirks.

As it turns out, luckily for you, they do have an audio descriptor version of the movie on your version of the DVD. And while you expect scathing commentary from Carmilla, she listens in silence. You find yourself watching her neutral expression rather than the movie in front of you. That is until her lips purse.

“Is there something on my face or are you just taking in the lovely aesthetic for pleasure purposes?” You immediately turn you attention back to your laptop and elect to ignore Carmilla’s chuckling.

It’s not much progress, but you think if this is what friendship with Carmilla would be like, you definitely wouldn’t mind hanging out with her becoming a regular occurrence.


	4. Loss

**The plus side to** your newfound friendship with Carmilla is that you don’t have to be a constant third wheel anymore. If being in your room got exhausting with Danny and Betty loved up on Betty’s side, you could call Carmilla and she’d meet you in the library. There you’d just sit across from each other and work on whatever school work you had to finish up. Carmilla seems to be limited in the friends department too, so she doesn’t really have prior plans that would prevent her from hanging out with you those times you ask.

You like to think you’re growing on her even if Carmilla seems determined to pretend she hates you. Carmilla still always shows up when you ask if she wants to hang out. (Though that could be due to the promise of food courtesy of your father’s funds.) She hasn’t told you anything about her past which you don’t mind. You’re not entitled to know _anything_ about her, just getting a chance to get to know her is good enough for you.

The thing about Carmilla is she’s far from frail. It’s admirable in a way how she handles herself. Despite the fact that she can’t see, it doesn’t slow her down at all. You think it’s out of pure spite at the hand life has dealt her that she doesn’t let it hold her back. Carmilla’s kind of amazing.

She’d probably make fun of you if you said so out loud.

As much as you enjoy hanging out with Carmilla, you’re sure your friends are aware of you blowing them off to spend more and more time with her. You can’t bring yourself to feel too guilty about it. It’s nice to just sit down and not be expected to engage in a conversation. If you didn’t feel like talking, Carmilla would just sit across from you and stick her headphones in. Carmilla didn’t want anything from you except food at the end of the day, and it’s refreshing to just sit across from someone with zero expectations.

But to make sure your other friends don’t feel neglected, you make plans to watch another one of Danny’s track practices and then go out with her for pie the upcoming Wednesday. Then you’re going to brunch with Lafontaine and Perry on Saturday, doubling that as a tutoring session. (You have your first test for your Biology class coming up in a week and you’ve been so preoccupied the past three weeks hanging out with Carmilla that you hadn’t exactly been studying. Science isn’t exactly one of your strong points but Lafontaine loves it. They’d practically begged you to let them tutor you.)

For one of the first times in your life, you feel completely in control. You feel like things are kind of going your way. And the more pessimistic part of yourself is wondering how and when it will all go wrong.

* * *

 

 **Danny is distracted when** you go out to pie with her. You’ve eaten what you would estimate is about half while Danny picks at her half with her fork. She’s more stabbing the slice than actually putting any of it into her mouth. You don’t say anything at first, but Danny looks at her phone and frowns for what must be the sixth time in the past thirty seconds.

“Hey, what’s up?” You nudge the toe of her sneakers with your own and she looks up to meet your eye.

“Huh?”

“Is something wrong? You haven’t said a word since we left the track.” Danny turns her eyes back to the pie and stabs it once more before she answers you.

“Do you ever feel you’re just growing apart from someone?” Danny asks. She sits back in her seat and runs her fingers through her hair, looking sullen.

_Um?_

“Why?” She looks torn; like she doesn’t want to admit what she’s about to say out loud, but she meets your eye again and grimaces.

“I think Betty and I aren’t working anymore.” Whatever you’d been expecting to talk about with Danny when you got here, discussing her relationship with Betty was not one of them. A couple months ago, you think you would have been ecstatic to hear this news. Hell, maybe three weeks ago that bit of information would have been the best news you’ve ever heard. Instead, with everything that’s changed (and with Carmilla annoyingly in the back of your mind), it makes your stomach turn uncomfortably.

“Why?” You finally say, and Danny sets her fork down to drop her hands into her lap. Her shoulders sag a little bit and your frown deepens.

“She’s—I feel like we’re not on the same path. She’s not worried about her future at all. Last year she was so focused and I loved that, but she’s become this… Party girl.”

“Isn’t that something you should talk to _her_ about?”

“I’ve _tried_ , Laura. She always changes the subject or makes an excuse to leave when I bring it up. I’m thinking maybe we aren’t a fit anymore.” Here was the girl you’d had a crush on for an entire semester spilling the failings of her relationship onto your lap and you don’t feel anything but sad. The thought that there was a time you would have felt like you had a chance now makes you feel sick.

Maybe it was the breathing room you’d had from last semester’s problems. Maybe it was pouring your energy in trying to develop a friendship between you and Carmilla. You don’t know for sure. All you know is that hearing Danny and Betty aren’t working out doesn’t give you any type of satisfaction.

“You’ve got to talk to Betty. I’m not in any position to tell you what to do in your relationship.”

“I know, I know. I just—I just wanted to vent a little.”

“I understand.” You offer Danny a small smile that she returns.

“Thanks, Laura. You’re a really good friend.” _Friend_. Why doesn’t that sting like it used to?

“Of course. It’s what I’m here for.” Danny smiles a little wider and takes her first bite of the pie sitting in front of her. You sit in comfortable silence as she eats and let your mind wander. Danny clears her throat bringing your attention back to her.

“Hey so, you’ve been hanging out with Carmilla a lot recently, right?” Your eyebrows furrow.

“Where’d you hear that?” She blushes.

“Betty. And Lafontaine and Perry talk. They all think she has a crush on you.”

“How would they know that?” You don’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it does, but you don’t like the idea of anyone talking about the two of you behind your backs. Danny just shrugs in response.

“People just like to gossip.” A beat passes. “So is it true?”

“The hanging out or the crush?”

“Both?” The question of why she would care if Carmilla liked you lingers on your tongue, but you shake it from your mind. _Not important_.

“Yes. We’ve been hanging out. No, she doesn’t have a crush on me. She barely tolerates me if we’re being honest. I’m pretty sure she just sticks around because I bribe her with free food.”

“Mm… Well, I’ve known about Carmilla for the past three years, Laura. She’s never really _talked_ to anyone. I mean she has her tutors for classes, but other than that she kind of blocks everyone out. Everyone except you apparently.”

“What are you trying to say?” Danny winces just slightly at your defensive tone and you realize just how tense you’ve gotten. You know she means well, but you don’t like the accusatory tone Danny is aiming towards Carmilla. A girl she didn’t really know at all. (Not like you were starting to at least.)

“I don’t know, Laura. It’s just… Weird.” Danny takes a moment to finish off the rest of her pie before she continues. “I’d be careful. You never know what she has up her sleeve or if she’s trying to use you.”

There has to be some history besides their lab partnership freshman year between them. Your instincts haven’t lied to you yet. You’re not sure what it is, but you want to find out. You were _going_ to find out. But you know better than to outright ask right now. Instead you just nod and concede to end the conversation.

“I’ll be careful, Danny. Don’t worry about me.”

* * *

 

 **You meet Carmilla for** lunch Thursday afternoon. Your conversation with Danny is still in the back of your mind. You try to ignore it the nagging in the back of your mind questioning what exactly she was trying to imply. You really don’t get it. What did Danny think Carmilla was trying to get from you?

“You’re quiet.” Carmilla says, snapping your attention from your wandering thoughts back to her. A single eyebrow is raised over the frame of her sunglasses, her mouth twists into something you could possibly call concern. Or annoyance. You shift in your seat while Carmilla reaches for one of her tacos. Why Carmilla chose Taco Bell today you don’t know, but here you are. She lifts her hard shell to her mouth and takes another bite, chewing and swallowing before she continues. “Everything okay?”

“I— Why?” She’s never shown any genuine concern for you before now. It’s almost worrying. Carmilla flushes and takes rather aggressive bite of her taco. She takes her time chewing while you stare at her waiting for an answer.

“I just don’t want you to spaz out on me all of sudden and make me have to drop your companionship.”

“And why exactly would our ‘ _companionship’_ matter so much to you?” It takes her a moment to answer that, you can tell she’s thinking of some rude excuse.

“Free food of course.” Carmilla finally answers.

“Oh right. Of course.” You roll your eyes. The effect is lost as soon as you remember she can’t see you and you pout. Carmilla licks her fingers clean as she finishes and you can’t help but smile. Carmilla likesyou. That small amount of concern was enough indication of that for you. Even if she wanted to pretend she was only in it for the food, she _likes_ you.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

“Oh— Um, I’m fine. Just—I have a lot on my plate. You know?”

“Oh, do you now? Are you sure you aren’t just wasting your time with unnecessary projects?” For a moment you panic, wondering if she knows you’ve been spending time each night recording the Harry Potter books for her, but you shake that from your mind. _Of course_ she doesn’t.

“No. Of course not. Everything I do is super important.”

“I’m sure.” There’s a playful smirk on her lips. Just before you can try and deliver a comeback. She pauses and lifts her phone from her pocket. There’s a moment of confusion before she sticks one of her earbuds in. Carmilla has always been pale, but her face almost turns an ashen color.

“Is everything—” She cuts you off before you can finish.

“I have to take this. I’ll be right back, cupcake.”

“Oh, okay.” She takes out her walking stick and leaves. “I’ll just be here then.” You watch as she stops just outside the restaurant and speaks to whoever is on the other line. Carmilla almost seems to curl in on herself. Her lips pulled into a deep frown. You have to wonder who it is to have changed her composure completely and so rapidly.

You don’t want her to thinking you’re watching regardless of the circumstances, so you turn your attention to your phone in your lap. You’d convinced your father after last semester that a smart phone was absolutely necessary with the promise of not to sending “high-resolution selfies to potential stalkers.” You browse through the collection of fanfiction you have open in your Chrome app until you hear the tapping of Carmilla’s stick against the tile floor. It’s usually more rhythmic and calculated, but now it sounds uncoordinated and panicked. You look up at her in surprise.

“Um, Carm—”

“I’ve gotta go.” She bites out. You stiffen. Carmilla hasn’t talked to you like that since… Well since that incident in the bathroom. You’ve made sure not to touch her since because she seems to have an issue with unwarranted physical contact. What had you done wrong?

“Oh. Do you want me to walk you home?” Carmilla shifts uncomfortably and you think she might turn you down but she shrugs instead.

“Fine.”

* * *

 

 **The walk back to** Carmilla’s apartment is probably the most awkward it’s been between the two of you ever. You’ve had her pissed at you, and you’d gotten used to her being more teasing with you. Despite the ever present snark, Carmilla had been nice and strangely pleasant. And now? Now it was like you’d messed up somehow. It was like a road block had been put up between the two of you and you couldn’t figure out what you could have done. Carmilla had been fine before that phone call…

“So, I’ll see you later?” You try, once you’re standing outside her apartment building.

“Sure.” She replies. Carmilla doesn’t even give you a chance to say goodbye before she’s walking inside and the door closes in your face.

“Bye…”

* * *

 

 **That night you** **figure** she’s just having a hard time. Friday when she doesn’t respond to your texts you think maybe she’s just busy. By Saturday morning it’s pretty clear she’s ignoring you. And that puts you in a sour mood for your brunch date with Lafontaine and Perry. You feel bad for your mood as soon as you arrive. They’re your friends. You’ve known the both of them way longer than you’d known Carmilla. They don’t deserve the brunt of your bad attitude.

You shake Carmilla from your mind and greet them both with a smile. Carmilla isn’t going to ruin your day. Especially with people who’ve done nothing to deserve a bad attitude from you.

“Hey, L. I hope you’re ready to study because Perry,” Lafontaine shoots Perry a pointed look and she frowns. “Forgot she has to meet with the other Floor Dons in half an hour.”

“It’s not my fault, it was a last minute thing.” Perry defends and you just shake your head.

“Hey, it’s fine. You have fun at your meeting!” You sit down as Perry starts to stand. “I’m sure you don’t really want to hear Laf gush about cell structure anyway.” Perry laughs at that.

“Don’t you know it?” Perry smiles and shoulders her bag. While Lafontaine ignores the small jab completely. “I’ll see you both later.” Then she’s shuffling from the café, leaving you and Lafontaine alone. Lafontaine pulls a textbook from their bag and lays it out on the table.

“Where to start?”

“Can I ask you a question before we start?” You’ve decided to take a note from Danny’s book on asking friends for relationship advice. Lafontaine would lay it out for you straight without sugarcoating anything. That’s how they were. And that’s what you needed.

“Yeah, what’s up? Trouble in paradise?”

“I wouldn’t have exactly called it paradise…” They give you an annoyed look and you shake your head. “Sorry, yeah. Um, I’m having issues with… With Carmilla. I think she’s ignoring me.”

“Why would she do that?”

“I don’t know… Do you think I’m being too pushy with this? Trying to be her friend?”

“I don’t know. You might be overthinking it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well you didn’t do anything to her, right?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Did anything happen before this whole ignoring thing started?” You frown. Everything was fine _before that phone call._

“She did get this phone call…” You tell them.

“A phone call?” The food Lafontaine apparently ordered arrives and a stack of pancakes it put on the table in front of them. They rub their hands together excitedly and starts to pour syrup onto them.

“Yeah, she got this phone call and then she came back upset. Then she left.”

“Sounds like that might be the source of your problem. For an aspiring journalist, your deduction skills aren’t the best thing I’ve ever seen.” Your cheeks flush and you start to open your mouth to defend yourself but they continue. “Look try leaving her alone. Maybe she’ll come back around.”

“Maybe…” You slouch into your seat. Regardless of the facts, you don’t know why a phone call would make her stop talking to _you_.

“Enough of this drama. Let’s talk science.” They stuff a forkful of pancakes into their mouth while you grab their textbook and flip to the chapter you’re working on in class.

“Sure thing.” Your thoughts of Carmilla melt away as you’re distracted by Lafontaine’s immense knowledge. You have to admire their passion for a subject you’ve never quite been able to grasp.

* * *

 

 **Despite everything, you don’t** speak with Carmilla for a week following Saturday. You’d finished recording _The Philosopher’s Stone_ a couple days ago and transferred it onto a flash drive to give to Carmilla to download. But it feels like it’s mocking you now. You’d given up trying to contact her after your conversation with Lafontaine figuring that if she wanted to talk to you she would. It was just so _frustrating_.

Just when you thought things were going well, she drops contact with you. You pull the flash drive from your laptop and twirl it between your fingers. Maybe you should just move on. Clearly Carmilla didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

Fine. _Fine._

But you aren’t keeping this stupid flash drive that you’d spent so much time on _for her_. You stand and find your coat where you’d thrown it on the couch and pull it on. You then step into your boots and grab your keys before you head out of your dorm and in the direction of Carmilla’s apartment building.

* * *

 

 **All your steam disappears** as soon as you’re standing in front of Carmilla’s apartment complex. You lick your lips, trying to bring back that brief anger that had made you come all the way out here. You know she lives in Room 307, but you’ve never actually been inside. You’d chalked it up to Carmilla being a private person so you’d never asked to go in, more than content with just meeting her outside.

The flash drive suddenly feels heavy in your hand and you take a nervous breath. You could do this. You were going to drop this stupid thing off at with her and you were going to leave and stop thinking about Carmilla Karnstein. And how easily she seems to have dropped you.

(Pretending not to be hurt about that is proving to be a task.)

You ascend the stairs to her room rather than taking the elevator so that you can prepare yourself mentally for this. You could definitely do this.

You stand in front of her door and listen for a second to see if you hear anything suspicious. You don’t hear anything at first, and then suddenly a muffled voice filters through. Someone was home. That was good news at least. You chew on the inside of your cheek and lift your hand to knock on her door.

The muffled voice stops and you don’t hear anything for a moment, then the door is opening and there is Carmilla. She looks the same, though you’re unsure what you’d been expecting. Perhaps a huge change in appearance would have explained her disconnecting. Instead, she looks the same as always. Just as flawless as ever, the scar on her face doing nothing to mar that beauty she somehow manages to retain effortlessly.

She’s in a cut up muscle shirt and you try not to admire her biceps, instead clearing your throat.

“Hey.” You say. Her lips immediately press together in a way that looks pained as she recognizes your voice.

“Hey. What are you doing here, creampuff?” She leans against the door frame, and you feel relieved that she’s not brushing you off right now. In fact, she’s acting as if nothing’s wrong when she’s _clearly_ been ignoring you for a week and a half. You anger returns at her nerve.

“I just came to give you this—something.” Carmilla’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Hold out your hand.”

To your surprise, she actually listens to you and you press the flash drive into her palm.

“Um, what’s this?”

“You said you’d give one of my favorite books a chance if someone whose voice wasn’t annoying read it. So I recorded it.” Carmilla’s face shifts to something of surprise and her mouth falls open. “I was just here to drop that off. I don’t really get why you stopped talking to me, but fine.”

“What are you—” You don’t give her a chance to reply. A part of you knows Carmilla could say anything right now and you’d be willing to forgive and forget. It was pathetic.

“Bye, Carmilla.”

You don’t wait for her to say anything else before you turn and leave, struggling not to run. You can practically feel her unseeing eyes on the back of your head as you walk down the stairs.

* * *

 

 **You find yourself in** your room nursing a package of cookies in your arms and rewatching old Buffy episodes. Betty strolls in with a lost look on her face before she turns to you. You know you look ridiculous, curled in your blankets with crumbs everywhere and a pout on your face.

Betty observes you for a few seconds before she plops down on her bed still facing you. She doesn’t say anything at first so you turn back to your laptop.

“So what’s wrong?” Betty asks as her first shoe hits the ground with a small thump. You look back at her from your laptop and she’s tilting her head at you.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” She raises an eyebrow and eyes you like the answer should be obvious and you realize it is. “Right... Nothing.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“It’s not important.” You tell her. Betty just sighs.

“You can talk to me, you know. I know I haven’t been the most… Attentive roommate, but that’s because you never seemed to need my help.” You purse your lips. You’ve never really had “girl time” with Betty in the past six months you’ve lived with her because she was never really… Around.

“What’s brought this on?”

“I’ve had a wake-up call.” Betty blushes. “It’s not important. We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. I want to help you for once.” You consider just tucking back into your cookies and throwing in your headphones, but you can’t bring yourself to say no to the hopeful look on Betty’s face. You remember your conversation with Danny, and figure that must have something to do with this sudden change.

“I don’t think me and Carmilla are going to be friends anymore.” You finally admit. Betty frowns.

“Why? I thought things were going great.”

“Yeah, well, she stopped talking to me.” Betty looks down at her lap.

“Well you know, if it’s meant to work out, it will right? That’s something cheesy they say in movies right? And then the girl and guy get together. Fall in love forever. That kind of thing?” You look from your hands to Betty who’s giving you a small smile. It widens when she sees the grimace on your face and you realize she was joking. You grab a pillow and throw it at her in an attempt to hide the responding smile on your face.

“You’re making fun of me!” Betty blocks your pillow with an arm and laughs. Despite the residual sinking feeling in your stomach you truly smile for the first time since in a couple days. And you think that if Betty was like this more often, you could see her being one of your best friends.

* * *

 

 **The worst part is** going back to class on Monday. Being in your creative writing class only reminds you of her. You don’t really talk to any of the people in your class anymore because they were unwilling to speak with you unless it was necessary for class. You’d attempted to make friends but, like every other person on this campus but your group of friends, they’d brushed you off.

You sit in an aisle seat near the middle of your lecture hall. The rest of the students in your class sit scattered around the rows of seats. There are a few pairs of friends here and there, but for the most part everyone has separated themselves from the rest of the class. You frown down at your notebook. That daffodil you’d haphazardly sketched into the back of your notebook a few weeks has slowly turned into a fully detailed flower, its petals alive and healthy looking. You smile to yourself looking at it. You aren’t a big artist but you mother was a florist and you’d spent a lot of time learning about flowers before—

“Good morning class.” Your professor immediately steals your attention away from your notebook. You swiftly flip back to the closest blank page to the front to start your notes. “Today we’ll be talking about loss.”

You frown. _Of course._

“One thing you hear often is how writing about something or someone you’ve lost will help you move on. You’ll hear people preach about how writing out your feelings will help you release your feelings. Putting it down on paper can serve as a relief for a large amount of people. Though some people prefer verbal communication.” As she speaks, she shuffles through the pile of papers that you’ve all turned in today. She pauses to straighten them up, then she looks back up and surveys the class. “In the reading I assigned for today’s class—”

Your mood pangs to panic and you tune her out. You’d completely forgotten about the reading. You remember _you’re in the middle of class_ and tune your professor back in.

“—uses each of the five stages of grief to help the reader and a writer through the more difficult stages of their loss. If you’re interested you can purchase the full book on your own. However it’s not required for this class.”

You jot down the name of the book very quickly where it’s shown on her powerpoint before your Professor continues her spiel about different ways to handle writing about loss and grief.

You leave class with the book on your mind. You get a text from Danny letting you know she’s meeting Betty, Lafontaine, and Perry for lunch and asking if you want to join. Part of you wants to say no, but staying holed up in your room wouldn’t help you at all. You tell her you’ll be there.

* * *

 

 **You manage to find** an excerpt of the book and plan to read it during lunch. You sit down at your table and greet everyone, sitting down without getting food. Betty gives you a sweet smile, tucked under Danny’s arm. They both look happier than they have in a while. Betty had been out of the room a lot claiming to be going to ‘study’ and until now you didn’t really believe her.

It looked like Danny and Betty had finally talked things out and were better for it. Lafontaine gives you a grin that you return before they nudge Perry and offer her some of their food. Perry rolls her eyes but takes some. It all feels so normal, yet you feel out of place for some reason.

You bite the inside of your cheek and pull your phone out to check out that sample from the book.

_‘One: Denial_

_The Right to Write_

_When you write a memoir about a loss that has affected you, you're telling your story the way you see it. You're the main character, but the story isn't solely about you. Even though grief and loss are uniquely personal, others are involved in the story, perhaps affected by the same loss. Certainly other people have lost a loved one to cancer, been the victim of a crime, lost their job or their home, but_ your _story-- even if there are similarities with others, is yours alone. You perceive your loss as world changing, and for you, it is. However, as a writer facing your story of grief for the first time, you may doubt that you have the right to tell that story, especially if you feel it's like one that others have experienced. You might feel that since everyone will have significant loss in their life,_ _what new or different perspective can you bring in your writing?’_ [1]

You’re debating the final question to yourself when you hear a familiar tapping behind you and your friends fall silent. Someone clears their throat and you look up at Carmilla who’s standing close behind you. Carmilla looks great honestly. She’s actually wearing a long black coat today and those Ray Bans you’ve gotten used to are on as usual. And she’s scowling.

“Hey.” She says. Despite the look on her face, her voice is soft. It takes you by surprise.

“… Hey.” You reply.

“Can we talk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1The book referenced near the end is [right here](http://www.amazon.com/Braving-Fire-Guide-Writing-About/dp/1250014638) if you have any interest. [ return to text ]


	5. Sharing

**“Can we talk?” A** slight blush rises onto Carmilla's cheeks at the rigid silence that follows her question. You can’t help but notice the slight bob of her throat as she swallows nervously. There were always these subtle things you noticed Carmilla did. Not that you were specifically looking for them. While Carmilla was hard to read sometimes, at times like right now you could read her like an open book.

“Um—” You’re about to agree to her request (because dammit she looks so nervous, how could you turn her down), but Danny cuts you off.

“Laura has nothing to say to you.” Danny growls from her spot beside you. Carmilla sneers at the sound of her voice and her shoulders tense, but she doesn’t turn her face from your direction to address Danny.

“I wasn’t asking you, _Xena_.” You look from Carmilla back to Danny, who looks ready to jump out of her seat. Betty gives you a lost look and you give her a quick shrug before turning your attention back to Carmilla and Danny.

“Hey. You two are _not_ arguing right now.” You interrupt before they can have a smackdown in the middle of the Caf. They both visibly relax at your input which you thank every higher deity in existence for. You address Danny first. “I can speak for myself, Danny.”

“But—”

“No. I’m fine. And it’s not like Carmilla’s going to try and kill me. _Right_ , Carmilla?” Carmilla shrugs her shoulders ambiguously and you force yourself not to roll your eyes. Instead you give Danny a small smile that she doesn’t return. “See. I don’t need a babysister, okay?” Danny wilts and you feel a little guilty, but you can’t find it in you to apologize. Instead you turn back to Carmilla. “Yeah, we can talk.”

“Alright.” Carmilla takes a few steps backwards, and turns her face back towards the bathrooms. You get the hint and stand, leaving your coat on the bench. You can feel the curious stares from your friends on your back as you walk through the Caf towards the restrooms. You don’t look back to make sure Carmilla is following after you, the sound of her boots on the linoleum floor and the taps of her cane are enough indication of that. There are a few girls in the restroom when you walk inside and they barely look your way. When they see Carmilla however, they quickly excuse themselves leaving the two of you in silence. How she managed to radiate such a repellent aura you would probably never understand. You turn to face her.

“Well?” You say, it comes out a little harsher than you’d intended and Carmilla has the nerve to look amused. You debate how rude it would be to leave for a moment before she purses her lips.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Are you serious?” You reply immediately. Carmilla’s mouth falls open a bit as she searches for something to say.

“Yeah?”

“You’ve been ignoring me for the past—For almost two weeks and you’re wondering if _I’m_ the one mad? I should be asking _you_ that?” Carmilla frowns and scratches her chin.

“I didn’t realize I was neglecting you, princess.” She mutters and you glare at her, more than aware its effects won’t do a thing to her.

“I can’t believe you’re sitting here making jokes after I spent all this time thinking I’d done something wrong.  And now you’re acting as if _I’m_ the one with the problem.”

“Cupcake, I honestly don’t know what’s going on here.” Carmilla pouts and scratches the back of her neck. “I’m not good with this whole feelings and talking thing. You just came to my apartment and shoved a flash drive into my hands and I realized we hadn’t talked in a bit. So I’m asking, are you mad at me?”

“Yes, I’m mad at you.” You curl your hands into fists at your sides.

“Why?”

“Because you just stopped talking to me out of nowhere! I spent all this time thinking I’d done something wrong even though you’d gotten this phone call last time we hung out so I knew it might be that. But I couldn’t figure out why that would make you cut _me_ off. And I thought it was so unfair and rude and I just—” You take a breath. You’ve been staring at one of the buttons on Carmilla’s jacket and you look up to her face. Her lips are pressed together clearly listening to what you’re saying and you feel all your frustration deflate. “I—I got frustrated and thought that you wanted me out of your life. So I gave you that stupid flash drive and I was going to leave you alone.”

Carmilla is silent for a few moments and nervous sweat builds on your palms. You stuff your hands into your pockets.

“I broke my phone.” Carmilla finally admits and you nearly choke on your own spit.

“What?”

“The phone call I got that day was from my mother and she—She throws me off. In a burst of frustration I threw my phone at a wall. Which was a terrible idea in hindsight, my phone is a very useful tool in my life... But that’s why I didn’t text you back.” Your cheeks color. That entire time you’d thought she’d be ignoring you, she’d just been flat out unreachable.

“Why didn’t you come find me and say something?”

“I didn’t really think about it.” Carmilla confesses. “I’ve never really had friends who cared when they didn’t see me for extended periods of time. I didn’t think it would bother you.” Your stomach flips.

“Oh my god.” You groan and cover your face, missing the look of panic cross Carmilla’s face. “ _Oh my god_. I probably look like such an idiot.” You turn back towards the sink and try to push down your embarrassment. You’d overreacted. You’d _really_ overreacted. God, you’re such an _idiot_.

You feel hesitant fingers on your back and they trail slowly up your spine until a hand grips your shoulder.

“You’re not… You’re not an idiot.” Carmilla says. The indecision in her voice makes it sound so insincere and you can’t help the snort of disbelief that leaves your throat. “Okay you’re a little bit of an idiot.” _Jesus Christ_. You groan louder. “Come on, cupcake. What do you want me to say? You overreacted. I lack basic communication skills. It _happens_.” That makes you laugh through your embarrassment.

“We make quite the pair don’t we?” You look up into the mirror and Carmilla’s mouth pulls into a small smile. Her hand drops from your shoulder as you turn back to face her. She shifts on her heels before leaning back against the wall. You don’t know what to say, so you ask a question instead to change the topic. “So you fixed your phone?” Carmilla pulls a shiny new iPhone from her pocket.

“Yep. All fixed.”

“Geez. That’s the newest model isn’t it? What kind of money do you have to just replace phones like that?”

“You’d be surprised, creampuff.” You think it’s nice how easily you can just slip into conversation with her as if you hadn’t just been at odds (by your own fault apparently). You stand on opposite sides of the area, you leaning back against the sink and Carmilla with her back to the tile wall. Neither of you say a word until you wonder again what exactly that phone call may have been about.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask hesitantly. Carmilla’s face softens considerably now that she knows you’re not going to walk out on her.

“I suppose.”

“Why does a phone call from your mother throw you off the way it did? Enough to break your phone I mean.” Carmilla sighs and you bite your lip. Jesus. That was probably a sensitive topic wasn’t it? Why couldn’t you keep your word vomit under control? Before she can answer you, someone opens the door to the restroom. The newcomer looks between you and Carmilla sheepishly, already starting to back out of the open door.

“I’m sorry am I interrupting something?” She says quietly. Carmilla’s face shifts into a grimace and she turns to face her. If possible, the girl shrinks even more.

“Really not.” Carmilla finally says and you glare at her.

“Hey. We are having a conversation.”

“We don’t need to have it right here though.” The girl starts to back out of the door and Carmilla grimaces even more. “Go pee. We were just leaving.” The girl looks between you and Carmilla before she shuffles past into one of the stalls.

“We are not finished talking.” You whisper to Carmilla.

“I know.” She shrugs. “But I don’t want to have this conversation here if we must have it at all. I’m sorry you thought I was ignoring you.”

“That’s not even a real apology.”

“ _Look_. Just come by my apartment tonight. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, deal?”

“I—Deal.” _Whatever_ you wanted to know? That is something you’ll hold her to and are going to take advantage of while you can.

“Okay.” Carmilla pulls her walking stick out and moves back towards the door. She opens it and turns back to you. “Text me before you come, I promise I’ll answer this time. Alright, poptart?”

“Okay.” (Carmilla really did make your vocabulary shrink sometimes.) Carmilla turns and walks out of the bathroom door, leaving you in silence in the bathroom. You decide to leave before that girl comes back out. Carmilla is nowhere in sight when you step back into the noise of the cafeteria and you look to where your friends are sitting. They’re all staring at you and try to quickly turn back to act is if they haven’t been watching for you. You roll your eyes and walk back to the table.

Your friends manage to keep their comments to themselves for all of two minutes. Unsurprisingly, it’s Lafontaine who speaks up first.

“So did you have fun making up with your girlfriend in the bathroom?” You blush despite yourself and Lafontaine smirks as if they knew something you don’t. (Which is really impossible because sure Carmilla was really pretty but she was still kind of a jerk. And there’s _definitely_ nothing going on between the two of you.)

“She’s not my girlfriend.” You grumble. You don’t miss the frown on Danny’s face, it shifts into something more pleased when Betty presses into her side so you decide to ignore it. Instead you look back at the article on your phone.

_“What new or different perspective can you bring to your writing?”_

You’re unsure you have an answer in this moment, but you’re ready to discover just what you can bring to the plate.

* * *

 

 **You spend the better** part of the rest of the afternoon working on essays for your other classes. Plus you _do_ have other assignments for your Creative Writing class than just the project due at the end of the semester. If you’re being honest, you’d been distracted and hadn’t been working to the best of your abilities in this past week. That was going to change. You didn’t spend all the time keeping your GPA up last semester to sabotage it because of some girl. (Even though you can admit to yourself Carmilla isn’t just _some girl_.)

Homework is boring though and even your self-tiled playlist “Laura Hollis: Jam Master” isn’t doing much to motivate you to write your Anthropology paper. You sigh and look out the open window in front of your desk. The sun is just dropping towards the horizon line. You’re debating watching the sunset before you leave when Betty opens the door to your dorm room and walks inside.

Or she _skips_ into the room with a huge grin on her face. Betty even waves hello and you think there’s definitely something wrong with her. Betty never used to really acknowledge you. And you know she’d felt bad the other night about not making an effort with you last semester but you’d halfway figured she was just feeling shitty after her issues with Danny. The follow through on her part was… Pleasantly surprising.

“What’s got you all bubbly?” you ask, Betty sighs and flings herself onto her bed. She clutches a leopard print pillow to her chest and buries her nose in the soft fabric for a moment, then she looks back up at you.

“Danny and I worked things out completely and I couldn’t be happier. I mean, we’ve been good for a week now but it just hit me I almost lost her because I was out of my head. And now, now everything’s _perfect_.” She sighs and hugs her pillow closer. “I think we’ll be better off for it.”

“Why isn’t she here now?” You can’t help but prod. It’s not that you thought Danny was attached to Betty’s hip or anything, it’s just… You’ve witnessed more making out than you’d like to admit and it was a little strange to see Danny hadn’t even walked Betty back to the room.

“Danny had some stuff to do so I told her I’d be fine on my own. We need a little space sometimes anyway, right? I’ve been doing some relationship research and I’m trying some things out.” Betty sits up then and looks past you out the window. You turn in the same direction and see the warm hues painting the sky fading to pink. “You know, Laura, it’s true what they say about communication. It’s good. Like really good. If you talk things out, things get a whole lot better.”

“You think so?” Maybe there really is hope for you and Carmilla.

“I know so.” Betty winks at you. You can’t help but smile and she returns it. You turn from her back to the papers scattered across your desk that aren’t going to get touched tonight. You shove them into an unorganized pile and stand.

“I’ll be back later.” You shove your keys and phone into your pocket as you put on your coat.

“Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

* * *

 

 **You get to her** apartment just as the pinks in the sky are fading to black. You raise your hand to knock on her door, but stop just before your knuckles tap the door. You can hear her moving around inside, but nervousness suddenly makes you freeze completely. You haven’t actually been inside her apartment and you have no idea what to expect on the interior. You’d had a chance at a glimpse before but you’d been too pissed to think about taking in her living space.

Was Carmilla messy? Was she clean? What kind of furniture did she have in her apartment?

You swallow once and then knock. You’re met with silence for a long five seconds then Carmilla is opening the door and standing in front of you. You can feel the warmth filtering out from her apartment and it smells of chocolate. Carmilla is in a slightly oversized dark colored t-shirt with some band name you don’t recognize and gray sweatpants. Her hair is thrown up in a messy bun again and her feet are bare. She leans against the frame and if you didn’t know better you’d think she was taking in your appearance. But, of course, her sunglasses are where they always are and her lips are pulled into a teasing grin.

“Come here often?” Carmilla asks and you roll your eyes.

“Are you going to let me in?” Carmilla looks halfway offended at you not entertaining her flirtatious tone, but moves aside to let you in. You step past her into her apartment and to say you’re impressed would be an understatement.

Carmilla’s apartment has a minimal amount of furniture inside, a small kitchenette to the right and a small living room to the left. There is a distinct black and white theme to the space and a timelessness that makes you feel as if you’ve stepped into a photo. The carpet beneath your feet is a bleached white so untouched that you immediately start to take off your shoes so you aren’t the reason it should get messed up.

The kitchenette is spotless, the counters black and the appliances a shiny new silver as if Carmilla doesn’t touch them. The two doors that could lead to a bathroom and a bedroom are closed so the only other place you can really assess is the living room which is the only place that’s clearly been touched. There are crumbled up pieces of paper all over her coffee table and a mug with a dark red liquid still half filling it. Different pairs of pants and shirts are strewn over the back of the couch.

“I should probably apologize for the mess. I don’t usually have people over here.” Carmilla says.

“Don’t you have any friends?” It comes out a little harsh but Carmilla just lets out an amused huff.

“No. No one sticks around, cupcake. I’m a difficult person to be around.” While that was true in its own way, when Carmilla wasn’t being an ass she was… Pleasant to be around. The idea of people just leaving her makes your heart clench. (The idea you’d almost left her makes you feel sick.)

“Oh,” is what ends up leaving your mouth. Carmilla moves past you to the couch. She knocks the clothes onto the floor and kicks them into a pile. You probably could have guessed that with her messy eating habits, her living space would be a mess as well. You sit down and Carmilla sits down next to you, reaching for her mug and taking a long sip of the liquid. It leaves a red stain on her upper lip and she wipes it off with the back of her hand.

Carmilla doesn’t say anything once she swallows, she just leans back on her couch. You sit down cautiously next to her and her hand immediately falls to one of her thighs. It only takes another second of silence before her finger starts tapping that now familiar rhythm onto her thigh.

“Are you nervous?” You catch her bite the inside of her cheek at her question before she answers you.

“No.” You can practically feel her closing up so you backtrack.

“Okay.” Her finger taps a little more urgently.

“Can I ask—” You start as Carmilla at the same time says, “About my mother—”

The silence that follows is awkward.

“You can say what you were going to say.” Your voice is small and Carmilla shakes her head.

“I told you I’d tell you what you wanted to know. Ask away.”

“Why are you telling me this? Why now?” A part of you still can’t believe she’s choosing to tell you anything. Choosing to trust you with information you’re unsure if anyone else knows. It’s not that you don’t think you’re worthy of it or that Carmilla was too good for you. It just doesn’t exactly click why Carmilla values your friendship enough to tell you anything. Carmilla runs her fingers through her hair as she decides on an answer.

“Being alone all the time aside from the occasional unwarranted family visits gets… Lonely. I—” Carmilla’s cheeks color and she licks her lips. “There’s something about you. I don’t know what it is, but it makes me want to keep you around. Though I guess I do a shitty job showing it.”

You look from your hands up to her and you feel as if she’s looking at you. Not exactly in a physical sense, but as if she’s seeing something in you you’re not sure is there. You watch as the color from her cheeks fade as you take a moment to process what she’s just admitted.

 _She likes you_.

You can’t help your smile and you laugh. You laughing alleviates the tension and residual awkwardness in the room and Carmilla’s lips pull into a small smile. She bumps her knee against yours.

“I don’t see what so funny, sundance.”

“You are.” You say and Carmilla’s eyebrow rises.

“Yeah? How so?”

“You act all cool and disaffected, but you’re a big softie.” Carmilla snorts and leans towards you. You feel your breath catch in your throat as face stops just centimeters from your own.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Carmilla’s breath ghosts against your face and you realize you aren’t breathing. She leans back before you can gather your thoughts coherently. The smirk on her face is enough to tell you she did that completely on purpose. It irritates you that your glare will do absolutely nothing to help you right now. You decide not to entertain it further. You aren’t here to flirt with Carmilla as… Nice as entertaining that thought might be. You were here to get some answers. You wanted to know anything she would tell you.

“Were you serious about telling me whatever I wanted to know?” You ask. The briefly playful mood between you shifts entirely. Carmilla doesn’t look nervous anymore though. If anything she almost looks relaxed.

“Yeah. I was. Relationships are built on a mutual trust right?”

“I guess so, yeah.”

“So let’s do it this way. I tell you something and you tell me one in exchange. Would that okay with you?” Were you okay with letting Carmilla know things about your past that you haven’t told anyone else? It’s strange, but you think you are. Whatever it was about Carmilla, you’re okay with her knowing some of the baggage you’ve been harboring to yourself. Maybe she could carry some of your weight, and you could carry some of hers.

“Okay.” You say. The corner of Carmilla’s mouth pulls into a grin that you can’t help but return. She adjusts her sunglasses on her face and you watch as she seems to have an internal debate on where to start.

“My mother is pressuring me to have tests done to see if we can find an optometrist who can restore vision in my left eye.”

“I thought you were blind.”

“I _am_. I’m completely blind in my right eye. The—When I became blind the head trauma fucked up my vision in my left eye. It was still bad enough at first that I was _legally_ blind but it’s gotten progressively worse as years have passed. It’s so blurred at this point I might as well not see anything.”

“Do you not want to try and see if you can see again?” You don’t really get why the girl whose wistful tone you can hear when she asks you about the sky wouldn’t want to at least try to get her vision back. Carmilla grimaces.

“After all this time, I’ve accepted not being able to see again. There’s not even a guarantee the surgery would work anyway. It’s a lot of hassle for a chance.”

“Taking chances isn’t always a bad thing.”

“Yeah well, that hasn’t exactly worked out for me in the past so forgive me if I’m not jumping for joy at a possibility.” Carmilla purses her lips once she’s finished. You don’t take the bite in her tone personally because you don’t exactly like having your personal opinions challenged either.

“Is it okay for me to ask how you became blind?” At her slow intake of breath her shoulders rise and fall, she presses her back further into the couch.

“I said I’d answer all of your questions, Laura.” You don’t miss how Carmilla’s shoulders tense and you reach out for her hand before you can stop yourself. You both freeze at the gentle contact and you almost pull your hand back, but Carmilla relaxes. Her hand slides from beneath yours to move overtop yours. Her thumb brushes over your knuckles before she continues. “It’s—It’s not an enjoyable story.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to. It’s just not something I’ve really told anyone before.” Carmilla continues to run her thumb over your knuckles absentmindedly in thought. “I was so young that I didn’t know any better. It— Our stove exploded. I had a brother, Laura. We were twins. I was older by a few minutes and he was my only friend at the time. Our parents weren’t around much, and our babysitters were incompetent so we had to entertain ourselves a lot of the time.

“It was… It was an accident. I still don’t entirely understand how it happened but we were playing in the kitchen and I pushed him into the stove. It was an old shitty gas stove that had no business still being in use. I guess we turned it on. We weren’t paying attention to it until the entire thing was on fire. And we tried to run but uh—It exploded. I don’t remember much past the explosion. I woke up in the hospital badly burned on my right side and half blind.” Carmilla’s voice remains calm through her telling of the story but her hand has yours in a vice-like grip like a tether. “Will died. My parents had the misfortune of actually being home that night and didn’t get out of the house in time. I was adopted by the woman I’ve come to call mother. Maman is honestly a nice woman when she isn’t persisting me to do something I don’t want to. And I have these scars from the entire experience.”

“Oh, Carmilla—” Carmilla snorts, cutting you off before you can really say anything.

“Oh please don’t start the pity party, cupcake. I’m fine.” You watch her thumb slowly stop stroke your knuckles, but her grip on your hand doesn’t loosen. You experimentally move to turn your hand over and Carmilla automatically laces her fingers through yours. (You ignore the way your stomach flips.) You look up to her face and your eyesight travels along the contours of her scar. You get an itchiness in your fingers.

“Can I touch them?” As soon as the words leave your mouth, your entire face flushes red. That’s not something you meant to say out loud. Carmilla however looks unfazed. Her grip on your hand loosens as she raises her free hand to her sunglasses. Slowly and cautiously she pulls them off. You’d grown used to her scar but seeing how her right eye looks behind her sunglasses feels like something private. You’re overly aware of your own pounding heartbeat and you’re proud that you manage to keep a neutral expression regardless of her seeing you or not.

Carmilla’s right eye is a milky blue color, her eyelid drooping down from the healed scar. The very edge of her right eyebrow is melted into her scar. It just starts to travel over the bridge of her nose but stops before it can touch the left side of her face, and on the right it stops just at her ear. Her left side, unlike the right side of her face, is completely untouched. Her eye is chocolate brown and if you didn’t know better you’d think she was staring right at you.

“Are you having fun staring?” Carmilla asks and you push down the urge to defend yourself. You know logically her lashing out is a defense. From what though? Did she think you’d find her scars unappealing and you’d leave after you saw them? She relaxes, if only slightly, when you squeeze her hand reassuringly.

“I’m going to touch your face, is that okay?” Carmilla looks surprised at you asking again for permission. If you were going to do this, you wanted Carmilla to be comfortable with it. You don’t want to force her to do anything she didn’t want to.

“… Yeah.” You scoot closer and reach out slowly towards her to give her time to back out if she wanted to. Instead your fingers brush against the scarred skin of her cheek within a couple seconds. You’ve never felt burn scars before but the skin just feels tight. You move your fingers slowly and Carmilla’s face twitches but she doesn’t move away. Some parts of it feel more moist while others feel rough. It’s an interesting texture and you force your hand away before you spend the rest of the night touching her like a creep. Carmilla tilts her head at you once you hand is back in your lap.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” She asks and you shift so you’re sitting on your calves.

“I was just curious. I’ve never touched a burn scar.” You admit.

“That kind of curiosity could get you killed.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Carmilla snorts and puts her glasses back on. You watch with a small frown. Carmilla looks a lot more comfortable and the part of you that can’t keep its mouth shut is bothered at the idea she doesn’t know how beautiful she is. So you tell her. “You’re beautiful. You know that right?”

That seems to shock Carmilla into complete silence for a too long moment, before she says, “Not particularly but thanks for that, sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome.” You reply in a small voice.

“It’s your turn. Why don’t you tell me about your mother?” You stiffen. Carmilla leans back against the armrest of her chair.

“Wh—” You voice cracks and you swallow. _Get it together, Laura_. “Why my mother?”

“Well… I told you about mine.” Carmilla tilts her head at you and you could almost believe she was watching you. “It’s only fair, right?”

“I never figured you for someone to play on what’s fair or not.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t judge.” You know she means it as a joke but shame swirls in your stomach and you’re apologizing.

“I’m sorry.” Carmilla looks taken aback. Even a little embarrassed.

“Cupcake, I was kid—”

“I know. I know it’s just, you’re right. I can… I can tell you about her.” You don’t know where to start and your mouth dries. But Carmilla is patient, just sipping her unnamed drink. After a few more seconds of silence, she offers you the mug. You take it and cautiously try a sip.

It’s cocoa. Why it’s red you don’t know though. It’s not as sweet as you usually take it, but you hand it back to her with a small thank you.

“Anytime.” Carmilla breathes. There’s something about her voice that’s calming, like an instant solute to your nerves. You take a deep breath. You can do this.

“My mother was a florist.” You start. Carmilla cocks her head and waits patiently for you to continue taking another long drink of her cocoa. “I don’t talk about her much. Not even to my dad. It’s—It hurts to talk about her. She was good to me and my dad. She really was. She’d pick me up after school and take me to her shop. She’d show me different flowers and their names and their meanings. And then one day, she just… She just disappeared.” You can feel Carmilla’s attention on you and when you don’t continue for a moment, her grip on your hand tightens.

“When she didn’t pick me up from school I thought she was just late and ended up walking home. But then she didn’t come back that night. Or the next day. Or the next week. I kept asking my dad what happened but he wouldn’t give me a straight answer. I didn’t realize until a while later but he had no idea what happened. And I still—I still don’t really know what happened to her.”

“That’s fucked up.” That makes you laugh and Carmilla looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s just… Well it _is_. I’ve just kind of decided not to think about it. It hurts too much.”

“Is that why you’ve picked investigative journalism as your choice career? So you can dig into things you don’t know?”

“I never really thought about it. Maybe?”

“Hmm.” The silence that follows is strangely comfortable. As if you’re both considering what the other has chosen to share. Neither of you have made a move to separate your hands and you can’t help but enjoy how warm her hand feels in yours.

How it feels like it’s meant to be there.

“I still don’t understand why now, Carm.” Carmilla shifts and frowns.

“I didn’t realize I was pushing you away those days we didn’t speak. I realize now that I might as well have cut you off. My mother’s insistence on the tests bugged me and with her hanging around in my apartment for a few days, I didn’t feel like speaking to anyone. I don’t want to push you away. Even with your annoying persistence.” She pauses in thought. “I listened to some of that children’s book you recorded for me as well which was,” One of the shyest smiles pulls onto her lips. “It was nice.”

You feel your heart skip a beat and you have to advert your eyes. How could she go from being the biggest asshole to being _so damn cute_?

“It’s not a… Children’s book.”

“Yeah, whatever. What I’m trying to say is I like you, Laura.” _How does she keep doing this to you?_

“I—” _Divert, divert_. “Maybe it’s my keen fashion sense.” Carmilla laughs.

“What exactly would I know about fashion, sweetheart? It’s a wonder I don’t mismatch every day.”

“It’s kind of hard to mess up an all-black outfit.” She laughs again and the sound fills you with warmth. It’s only then you realize just how close you’ve migrated towards her. Your knee is just inches from pressing against her thigh and you’re leaning in towards her. There’s a lot that hasn’t been answered, but Carmilla looks years younger and you don’t want to ruin that by trying to feed your curiosity.

You’re about to move back when Carmilla smiles at you and at the way your heart jumps in your chest you can admit, at least to yourself, that you have definitely developed a crush.

 _Dammit_.


	6. Look

**“Have you ever watched** Orphan Black?” You’d been working on your paper up until now, along with a few things for your other classes, while Carmilla lounged on your bed. Carmilla is lying face down on your bed, sunglasses off, face buried in your favorite yellow pillow. She looks pretty comfortable and relaxed to the point you’re not even sure she’s awake when you turn in your chair to face her.

“No.” Carmilla eventually grunts, her response muffled with her mouth still pressed deep in your pillow. You’re not really sure why she’s attached herself to it. Every time she came to your dorm, she immediately kicked off her shoes and flopped into your bed, grabbing your pillow and sighing into it like it was her personal drug supply. You haven’t verbally questioned it, but you’ve taken note of the action. “Though I get the feeling I won’t be able to say that for much longer.”

“So, you’ll watch it with me?” You beam and Carmilla turns her face from your pillow with a frown.

“Only if you promise not to be a dork about it.” Your grin turns into a pout.

“I am not a dork.” She snorts and your pout deepens. “Well… At least I don’t _brood_.” Carmilla actually looks offended, her lips flapping uselessly for a few seconds. You have to mentally high five yourself for catching her off guard.

“I do _not_ brood.” Carmilla growls. A tone you only roll your eyes at now. You’re way past being intimidated by someone you’ve witnessed drooling while sleeping in your bed. “I—I contemplate with… With advanced pessimism.” And the stuttering didn’t help her either.

“That would be a little more believable if you weren’t stumbling over your words.” Carmilla makes an offended sound while you turn back towards your desk to grab your laptop.

“Why don’t you come over here and do something about it then?” A shiver runs down your spine at the drop in Carmilla’s voice. You peek a glance at her and she’s smirking at you from where her cheek is still pressed into your pillow, a smirk like she knows exactly what she’s doing. You swallow slowly.

 _Get it together, Hollis_.

That was another thing. As much time as you and Carmilla have started spending in each other’s living spaces respectively, her flirting had also become a more constant thing. It wasn’t like Carmilla had never flirted with you before you’d shared tragic backstories. But with you more aware of your… feelings, it was affecting you a lot more.

It’s not like you’ve admitted the crush to anyone, let alone Carmilla. It was just getting harder to discern her flirtatious attitude from what it was, than trying to trick yourself into thinking she’d actually be interested in you romantically. Not that she was out of your league or anything but Carmilla is your friend. You aren’t going to take advantage of that.

“Do you want to watch this show with me before we go have lunch with my friends or not?” You ask, verbally ignoring her initial response to you. Carmilla’s lips press together just long enough for you to notice she’s doing it. She almost looks disappointed?

“Fine.” Carmilla grumbles. The excitement that she’s going to give it a shot without trying to convince you to do something else for once shrouds your short attempt to place the look on her face.

You bounce gleefully to your feet, laptop held against your chest. Carmilla sits up slowly, and moves over to make space for you on your bed. She keeps her fingers clutched on your pillow, holding it against her chest and burying her nose into it. And that makes it impossible to further bottle your curiosity. You have to ask.

“Why do you like my pillow so much?” You keep your voice casual as you search for an audio descriptor version of the first season of Orphan Black. Carmilla doesn’t answer you until you’ve found the episode and are about to hit play.

“It smells like you.” She says like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

 _Oh_.

You hit play without responding, setting half of your laptop on Carmilla’s thigh and the other on your own. And you try not to focus too much on how warm her leg feels flush against you. Except that’s exactly what you spend the entire first episode doing. Noting every twitch of her leg and shift of her posture. Carmilla’s paying attention, which surprises you. Carmilla used to groan at the mere mention of possibly entertaining any of the shows you like to watch, but almost every time she ended up fully enamored and paying attention to nothing but what was being described to her through the audio. It was captivating watching her giving something her full attention.

She nudges your foot with the toe of her shoe, breaking your train of thought.

“Laura.” You look first to the computer screen where the episode had definitely ended, then to Carmilla’s face. “You okay?”

“Um, yeah. I’m fine. Totally fine.”

“I thought you liked this show. Yet _you’re_ the one spacing out.”

“I’ve just seen this episode a few times. That’s all.”

“Sure.” Carmilla’s blatant disbelief makes you blush. “Are you going to explain to me exactly why this Sarah girl is finding her long lost twins?”

“No. You can find out later when we finish it.” You elect to ignore Carmilla’s displeased mumbling about that. “Come on, we have to go. It’s almost two and I told Lafontaine we’d meet everyone for lunch today.”

“Why do I need to come have lunch with _your_ friends anyway? It’s not like they’ll become _my_ friends. Hell, I’m not even sure why _we’re_ friends.” Carmilla stands up as you shut your laptop down and raises her arms to stretch. (You swear if she could shapeshift into a single animal it would be some type of cat.)

Carmilla arches her back enough that the hem of her shirt rises to her ribs. If it had been anyone else you might have taken a peek at the flat of her stomach, instead you look at the scars along her abdomen and frown. You wonder if they ever hurt. You don’t know why they _would_. The scars you’ve retained from any physical wounds definitely don’t but they just look… Painful.

“We’re friends because you like me.” You answer without missing a beat. Carmilla slips her feet into her boots as you start to pull a sweater over your head rather than your jacket. Since it’s nearing the end of March it’s warm enough out for you to go without it. “I only have lunch with them once a week now and they want to meet the person I’m essentially ditching them for.”

“That’s not really their business.”

“Maybe not.” You concede and Carmilla looks pleased. “However, this is the only way I’m buying you lunch today.”

“Damn. Looks like you’ve backed me into a corner, cupcake.” And with that she slides on her sunglasses and locates her walking stick. “Lead the way.”

* * *

 

 **As soon as you** get close enough to the Caf that you can hear the noise from inside, Carmilla throws her walls up. It’s both disappointing and warming that only _you_ get to see Carmilla for who she really is rather than the asshole she’s decided to be to the general public. You can understand there’s no reason for Carmilla to be as open with other people as she’s become around you, but you wish other people could see how amazing she is.

Carmilla had been muttering under her breath about how displeasing the sound of half melted snow squelching under her boots sounded, but clammed up immediately as the noise got louder. You reach out and brush your fingers against Carmilla’s elbow.

A part of you wants to ask if she’s okay, but instead you just say, “Come on.”

Carmilla gives you a small nod as her only response and walks inside after you hold the door open for her. You look out into the groups of tables and find your friends in the usual spot. It’s just Lafontaine and Perry right now which you’re grateful for. You don’t know how you’ll handle Danny and Carmilla in the same space. Especially with you still not entirely sure where the animosity between them stems from.

You wave to them and Lafontaine waves back. They gesture to Carmilla and you give them a thumbs up in response to tell them she’s staying, which earns you a small grin before Lafontaine and Perry both return to the conversation they’d been having before.

“Do you have anything specific you want to eat, Carm?”

“I just want some fries. And I’m paying.” _That’s_ a surprise.

“Why?” The question leaves your mouth a little more rude than intended but Carmilla seems unfazed.

“Because I can. One day you’re going to have to stop questioning my motives, sweetheart.”

“But I thought our deal was I buy you food and you stick around.”

“Well, maybe I don’t like that deal anymore.” It feels dramatic to admit it feels like someone’s sucked the air out of your lungs. You’d been aware your relationship had changed from the initial deal, but you stuck by it because you didn’t want to risk anything. Hearing Carmilla say it wasn’t important anymore makes you feel indescribably good. Better than good even. It makes you feel amazing.

But instead of something meaningful, you say, “Oh.”

Carmilla turns to face you completely.

“Look. We’re friends, Laura. And I don’t want you to think I’m using you. There’s no reason I can’t pay for our food for once so I’m going to.” Carmilla reaches out and her knuckles bump against your stomach before her fingers clench in the fabric of your sweater to tug you closer. You can feel her warm breath on your nose. You can’t place her scent but in this moment it’s almost intoxicating. “Alright?”

“Alright.” You manage to say it steadily despite the pounding of your heart. You cover Carmilla’s hand with your own and she slowly loosens her grip until you’re just holding her hand in yours. You link your fingers and tug her towards one of the food lines. “I’m hungry. Let’s go.”

You end up getting a sandwich while Carmilla does just get herself a platter of french fries. She pays as promised and you lead her towards the table where Lafontaine and Perry are still sitting  speaking quietly. They shut up immediately as you approach with Carmilla and take your seats. One of Carmilla’s hands immediately lands on your knee once you’re sitting and start to tap out that familiar nervous rhythm. You grab Carmilla’s hand to stop her and you greet your friends so they won’t notice your hands under the table.

(Platonic hand holding with your crush is totally normal, right?)

“Hi, Laura.” Perry nods to you first. Then to Carmilla who’s already starting in on her fries. “Carmilla.” Carmilla only grunts in acknowledgment. Perry smiles though and then you look at Lafontaine who’s squinting at Carmilla. And you have a split second moment where you think this might have been a terrible idea before Lafontaine opens their mouth.

“I have a question for you, Karnstein.” Carmilla turns to face them but just eats another fry instead of giving them a verbal response. They take that as a go ahead though and continue. “Those look an awful lot like burn scars on your face.” The only physical acknowledgment that gets it her hand tightening its grip on yours. You squeeze back in what you hope she takes as comfort. “Had you ever thought about having a skin graft to cover the scars? I mean, they’re not the _worst_ I’ve ever seen but—”

“I can’t see my own face.” Carmilla cuts them off. “I don’t particularly care what they look like.” Lafontaine actually flushes and looks halfway embarrassed which is enough of a surprise without Carmilla’s response lingering in the air.

“Oh,” is all they manage to say and an awkward silence follows. You struggle for a topic to switch to. Science. Lafontaine liked science. They would talk about their labs all day if you let them.

“Wasn’t there some big study you’re supposed to be working on?” Lafontaine’s attitude shifts immediately and they light up.

“Yeah! My Prof put us into groups and I got paired with this guy who goes by JP. It’s definitely a nickname but he won’t tell me what it stands for no matter how many times I ask. He’s a good guy I think. Smart. You probably won’t have any idea what I’m talking about but—” They immediately launch into a spiel about sorting certain genotypes into a cellular structure and you swear your eyes glaze over. Carmilla leans over and bumps her shoulder against yours, and the small smile she gives you when you turn to look at her feels like a thank you. But she quickly goes back to scarfing down her fries and you start in on your sandwich.

Despite her response to Lafontaine, you can’t forget the way she’s squeezed your hand whether it had been involuntary or not. Carmilla put on an act for the public eye. You know this. But sometimes it was difficult for you to decide whether she said something to save face or if it actually did bother her. You don’t see how bringing it up could be helpful so you keep your mouth shut.

You smile as the rest of lunch goes well and you promise to meet Lafontaine and Perry again next week.

* * *

 

 **It was bound to** happen honestly, but Carmilla disappears again. It’s nothing like last time. Only around… Eighteen hours of radio silence. But Carmilla was better at texting you back now for the most part. While a couple hours wasn’t exactly unusual, almost twenty-four hours was… Worrying. You fear annoying her so you don’t blow up her phone. It was just… Weird.

Needless to say it distracts you from helping Perry and Lafontaine with baking for another dorm event she’s set up with the other Floor Dons. You’d stopped mixing the bowl of ingredients to check for phone for the nth time and Lafontaine nudges you from behind.

“Don’t let Perry catch you not doing your job. I know you volunteered but you know she gets real serious about her brownies.”

“Sorry.” You mumble, shoving your phone into your pocket and starting to slowly stir again.

“You know, you haven’t helped out with baking in a while. Shouldn’t you be with your better half, crushes-on-blind-girls?” You frown. You don’t know whether to focus on the _‘better half’_ or the _‘crushes-on-blind-girls.’_ You go for the former.

“My what?”

“… Your girlfriend?”

“Who?”

“God, Carmilla.” They roll their eyes and you almost smile at your victory. You know they’d meant Carmilla obviously. But their assumptions and teasing about your undisclosed feelings were not in any way amusing. And Carmilla definitely isn’t anything close to a girlfriend. You think.

“Well why didn’t you just say that in the first place?” Lafontaine doesn’t look amused. “I don’t know. She hasn’t texted me back in a while.”

“Well she’s probably just busy, sweetie. Don’t take it personally.” Perry appears on your left and looks into your bowl. You start to stir again immediately. Maybe you could stop by her place later with a couple of brownies, or pick up one of those chocolate cupcakes she likes from the bakery on the way to her apartment. For now you turn you attention back to the contents of your bowl and your friends.

“Speaking of girlfriends.” Perry immediately looks from the oven where a batch is already baking to Lafontaine. “Has Perry told you about the person she’s been seeing?”

“Oh you don’t want to hear about that.” Perry says immediately, her cheeks flushed red.

“Of course she does.” Lafontaine claps you on the shoulder, almost making you drop your bowl. “This is Laura. She feeds off stories.” They both look at you expectantly.

“I—Well I can’t say I’m uninterested.” You admit and Lafontaine looks pleased at your admission.

“You’re not sly, Lafontaine. I know you’re just being nosy too.” You start to pour the mix into a pan to bake while Perry glares at Lafontaine with her hands on her hips. “Fine you, _poachers_. Her name’s Matska Belmonde.”

You recognize that name, she’s—

“That speaker who just moved back from an overseas project in Morocco?”

“I—Yes.” Perry looks flustered at Lafontaine immediately recognizing her name. You remember her now. Matska ‘Mattie’ Belmonde had been a professor at Silas until she left two years ago to do a personal trip. She’d returned just a couple months ago to do a speech. As far as you knew she was still in the country and knowing she was apparently seeing Perry is a shock for you.

“How did you meet her?” You ask, and Perry shifts, before moving to take the tray from your hands and putting it into the oven before taking out the two pans that had already been inside. Very clearly busying herself so she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with either of you while she spoke.

“At the talk she did. I waited until everyone had left to speak to her. Matska is captivating when she speaks, you have no idea. I asked if she wanted to get coffee to hear about her trip further and the social issues of Morocco. One thing led to another and we’re kind of… Dating now.”

“Oh, Perry. I’m so happy for you.” You grab her hands to make her focus on you rather than the brownies and she forces herself not to grin at you.

“Thank you, Laura.”

“Honestly, Per. I didn’t know if you’d ever date after freshman year. I’m happy for you.”

“That means a lot.” She smiles at the both of you. “Enough of this. We have to get two more trays done before five and they need to cool as well.”

* * *

 

 **You have to go to** a lab class before you head over to Carmilla’s apartment, but once it’s over you stop by your dorm to grab a few things before you head over. You’ve gone to Carmilla’s apartment unannounced before so unless she’s already mad at you it shouldn’t be an issue. You just have to hope she isn’t already mad at you. You’re just… Worried. And you want to make sure she’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that.

You do take a Tupperware of brownies that Perry insisted you have for helping as well as make that cupcake purchase just as an excuse to drop by. Carmilla never turned down free food, especially not baked goods.

There’s no response the first time you knock on her door, so you try again. This second time you hear a muffled, “What?” and just hearing that she is, in fact, alive is a relief.

“Um, hey, Carm. It’s me.” That doesn’t get an immediate response and you debate telling her you’ll come back some other time when she replies.

“The door’s unlocked, cupcake.” You turn the knob, and sure enough it’s unlocked. You don’t take off your shoes, not entirely sure how long you’re staying and instead move into her kitchenette to set down the baked goods on the counter.

“Sorry for showing up unannounced and I know you said I don’t need to apologize for doing this before but I wanted to anyway. I mean I wouldn’t just want someone always overstaying their welcome. Well I hope I’m not overstaying my welcome it’s just—Well I got some brownies from Perry and—” You finally turn to look at Carmilla and she’s sprawled out on her stomach on her couch. She’s not facing you and if she hadn’t just told you to come in, you’d think she was asleep.

“Brownies you say?” Carmilla croaks as she sits up slowly on her couch and gives you a small grin. She’s a little paler than usual and she looks like every movement is an effort. She’s definitely sick. _Crap_.

“Hey.” You breathe instead of answering her question about the brownies. You move so you’re standing in front of her.

“Hey.”

“You’re sick.”

“It’s only a cold, creampuff. No big deal.”

“No big deal? You look terrible.” Carmilla scoffs and you blush. Maybe not the best way to state that.

“Gee, thanks.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You move so you’re sitting next to her and Carmilla pulls her knees up to her chest. “I mean—You have to know you’re gorgeous. You don’t need _me_ to tell you that.” The pause that follows is brief but enough to make you start stumbling over your words. “I’m sorry. I keep forgetting that you can’t actually see your face so I guess you _don’t_ know. I mean that doesn’t make it any less true but I guess maybe you _do_ need someone to tell you. Not that you’re begging for compliments or anything like that that’s not what I meant at all, it’s just you can’t really assess your own face yourself—God, Carmilla can you say something before I keep embarrassing myself?”

Carmilla doesn’t say anything at first and you wonder what you ever did to deserve this constant word vomit that came with your nerves. Carmilla smiles slightly and looks down at her lap.

“You think I’m gorgeous?” You watch as Carmilla bites her lower lip after the question leaves her mouth. Gone is the girl you’d first met. The one who’d told you to get lost before you could say a word to her. Instead you’re standing in front of a shy girl who’s blushing at a comment you’d accidentally let slip about how you think she looks.

“I—Yeah, Carm. You’re beautiful.” The confession makes you blush but Carmilla smiles at you shortly before it disappears. She leans back against the back of her couch. That small smile you’d just barely witnessed is enough to make you swallow your embarrassment. It made the butterflies in your stomach totally worth it.

“Tell me.”

“What?”

“What I look like. Tell me.”

“Have you—Hasn’t anyone ever told you what you look like before?”

“Of course I’ve been told before. But I want to hear it from you.”

“Why me?”

“Why do you have to respond to everything with another question?” Carmilla grumbles in frustration. “Because I like you and it would mean something to me.”

“Okay.” Carmilla looks pleased until you continue. “But only if you let me get you some medicine and promise to go lay down in your own bed.”

“Seems like I’m getting more out of this deal than you are, cupcake.”

“Well. You’ll just owe me one.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” You stand and nudge her shoulder. “Now get up, lazy.” Carmilla scoffs but stands slowly and drags herself to her bed. She flops down heavily onto her bed, bouncing once before settling into a position similar to the one you’d seen her in when you’d entered her apartment.

“God why didn’t I come sleep in here earlier?” Carmilla buries her face into her pillows and sighs contently.

“Because you’re unreasonably stubborn. Even when it’s not in your best interest.” You mutter and Carmilla shrugs.

“Well, I’m no stranger to the art of self-destruction.” You’re not sure how you’re supposed to feel about that but it doesn’t settle well in your stomach. “Though with you around I get the feeling I’ll be just fine.” That part definitely makes you feel better. You kneel down next to the bed and cover her hand with yours. It’s a little clammy but still very much Carmilla.

“You’re damn right.” Carmilla gives you a small smile. “Now, please tell me you have some cold medicine laying around somewhere.” The silence that meets that makes you groan. “Perfect. I’ll be back.”

“Take your time.”

* * *

 

 **On your way back** to her apartment from the convenience store, you wonder how much money you’ve spent on Carmilla. You aren’t even dating but you’ve spent more money on her than you can keep track of without asking for anything in return but her companionship. Which she’s now offering you for free. You have to admit what you and Carmilla are doing feels a lot like dating.

You really need to get your feelings under control.

You lock her door behind you this time and drop your wallet onto her kitchen table that probably never gets used for what it had been designed for.

“Hey, Carm. I know it’s only like seven and you usually don’t go to bed until later but I got you some Nyquil because I thought you might need some help getting to sleep. You didn’t fall asleep on me right?” You poke your head into her room and she’s facing you, lying on her back, with a frown.

“Well if I was I’m not now. You talk like you’re trying to wake the dead.” At least she was well enough to continue to be as rude as possible to you. You sit on the edge of the bed and open the bottle instead, pouring in the dosage you usually take since Carmilla isn’t much taller than you. “Here.”

Carmilla holds up a hand and you push the cup into her palm. She tips her head back and downs it like a shot, and then immediately gags.

“Are you trying to poison me?”

“It’s _medicine_. It’s not supposed to taste good.” Carmilla’s nostrils flare in her own personal way of rolling her eyes. “Now come here.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t someone want me to tell her what she looked like?” Carmilla raises a single eyebrow but scoots closer to you and you lift your hands. “Do you mind if I touch your face while I do this?” She shakes her head and you brush your thumbs across her cheekbones. The texture is different on each side of course, your left feeling the ridges of the scar on her right side while the right brushes soft unblemished skin.

This really should be weird shouldn’t it? You’re practically just feeling her face. But Carmilla’s features are completely relaxed, eyes closed as you brush your thumbs back and forth on her cheeks.

“I don’t know where to start honestly.” You murmur.

“Take your time.” Carmilla replies, one of her hands moves to brace herself against your thigh. You nod more to yourself and slowly run the tips of your fingers along her jawline. Carmilla swallows and that’s where you start. You paint out every contour of her face with your words, hoping you’re effectively putting an accurate picture of her face into her head. Honestly you stumble over your words a little when you get to her lips, spending a little more time than you’d like to admit brushing a thumb over her lower lip.

Carmilla is patient and doesn’t move until you’ve finished. The air between the two of you feels heavy. You can’t describe the tension but there’s a pull. Carmilla lifts the hand that isn’t still clutching your thigh and cups your cheek. Then both her hands are cupping your face. Are you imagining her face getting close to yours?

“Is this okay?” She asks quietly.

“Yes.” You breathe. Carmilla keeps her unseeing eyes closed and mimics the same motions you’d made on her face onto yours. Your hands drop to hold her elbows. Your heart flutters when she spend that same extra time brushing over your lips. And again when she brushes the pads of her thumbs over your eyelids. She drops one hand once she’s finished, but keeps one hand on the back of your head, fingers tangled in the hair on the nape of your neck. The tension still lingers there and you aren’t sure what to say.

“Your skin is soft.” Carmilla finally says, and the tension slowly fades.

“I—Thank you.” She nods with a grin.

“Thank you, for that. I’m sorry if it was weird. I know people don’t like having their face touched.”

“No, Carm. I wasn’t uncomfortable or anything. It’s different when it’s you. _You’re_ different.”

“Okay, cupcake.” Your reply is cut off with a yawn.

“Are you tired?”

“Only a little. I can just head back to my dorm now. I’ve just been doing a little running around today.”

“Why don’t you just take mine? I can sleep on the couch.”

“What? No way. You’re the one who’s sick. I’m not going to take your bed.”

“Well why don’t we just share?”

“Share?”

“I’m not going to bite, cutie.”

“I know that.” How did you manage to get yourself into these situations? It’s like the universe was going out of its way to tease you with the possibilities that would be a relationship with Carmilla. And you’re not strong enough to say no to teasing yourself with the idea anymore. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll stay. We’ll share.” You stand to take off one of your sweaters so you don’t overheat and slide beneath the covers where Carmilla is already getting herself comfortable. Carmilla lays down facing you for a while as you settle into the bed, then she turns her back to you. You turn your back to her as well because you don’t know how you’ll react seeing her next to you when you wake up.

“Night, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight Carmilla.” You fall asleep surrounded by her scent.

(You wake up later when it’s dark outside, pressed back into Carmilla with her arm around your waist. The thought of moving away from her doesn’t even occur to you, instead you put a hand on her elbow and settle back down to sleep. This time enveloped both by her warmth and the feeling of her steady breathing on your back.)

* * *

 

 **The next time you** wake up the sun is up and shining right in your face from her bedroom window. You feel a lot more refreshed than you can ever remember feeling in your life. It honestly takes you a moment to remember where you are, then your recognize Carmilla’s blankets and the space where she should have been is still a little warm.

And is that the shower? Just as you decipher the sound, it shuts off. A few seconds later a still wet Carmilla exits the bathroom and reenters the bedroom with just a towel around her body. That sight is enough cause for an embarrassingly loud squeak that makes Carmilla’s head snap in your direction. She relaxes within seconds and sighs.

“I thought you’d still be asleep. You are quite the heavy sleeper, sundance.”

“I see someone’s feeling a little better.”

“Well someone took good care of me yesterday.” Carmilla feels around in her drawers for a few seconds before grabbing some clothes and heading back towards the bathroom. She stops in the doorway. “You can take a shower here if you’d like. I don’t have anything for you to change into but my own clothes if you don’t mind all black.” You debate going back to your dorm, but figure you’d just be back here later this afternoon anyway so you might as well just hang out.

“Well we’re about the same size so I think it would be fine if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’ll be back out in a sec.” You make a noise of understanding before standing to stretch. You have no idea what time it is since Carmilla didn’t have much use for clocks and you’d left your phone in your bag in her kitchenette. You stretch once more before leaving the bedroom to get your phone. It’s nearly dead but you have ten missed texts and two missed calls.

Both of the calls are from Betty but she didn’t leave a message either time. The first of the texts is from Danny asking if you wanted to meet up to get pie again soon. Seven of the texts were from Betty, it turned out she was just wondering where you were, and then she wished you good luck with whatever you were doing that you couldn’t reply to her _very_ worried text messages. The final two were from Perry thanking you for helping her with the brownies and asking if you’d attend the next floor meeting. (You would.)

Before you manage to send Betty a text to tell her you’d spent the night at Carmilla’s, your phone dies. You go back into her bedroom with a frown.

“Hey, Carm. Can I borrow your phone charger?”

“Yeah it should be plugged into the wall. And the shower’s all yours, cupcake.” You find it and plug your phone in to charge

“Thank you.” You try to ignore how domestic all of this feels as you head into the shower.

* * *

 

 **It takes you until** the time you finish washing to realize you’ve forgotten to grab some of Carmilla’s clothes to take into the shower with you. You dry off first before walking back into her bedroom in just a towel. You aren’t entirely worried about Carmilla seeing anything being that… She physically couldn’t, so you don’t mind walking around her apartment looking for her. Except she’s nowhere to be found in her bedroom.

“Dammit, Carmilla.” You whisper. You’re just starting to walk out of the bedroom to continue your search when the front door unlocks and two unfamiliar bickering voices filter into the space.

You run back into the bedroom straight into Carmilla who catches you by the elbows.

“Whoa, what’s the rush?”

“Some strangers just broke in here!” Carmilla’s mouth twists in confusion.

“Carmilla?” How did these strangers know her name? “We’ve come to visit. I told mother she should have called ahead of time but you know how she is.”

“Mother?” You question. Carmilla lets out a long breath and a curse.

“It seems my mother and sister have decided to drop by unannounced. I really do wish they’d _call_ before they did things like this.” Carmilla chews on the side of her lip for a moment. “Sorry, cupcake. It looks like you’re meeting my family.”


	7. She Likes You

**“Your family just turns** up in your apartment unannounced?” You exclaim, not letting your voice get above a whisper. It’s seriously hard to resist the urge to raise your voice in your bewilderment because who does that? Even with your father’s overprotectiveness and weekly bear spray shipments for your own personal protection, he’s never just arrived at your dorm and walked in unannounced. And maybe you shouldn’t compare situations but it just doesn’t make any sense to you.

“They like to surprise me.” Carmilla replies casually. She looks amused at your question and you frown. You had almost been exposed to her family in _just_ a towel. You aren’t finding this situation very funny. It’s then that her hands rise from your elbows to grip your biceps and her face twists in confusion. “Where are your clothes?”

Carmilla pulls her hands off of you immediately, her cheeks red. It’s her blushing that makes you face flush.

“It—That’s the entire reason I came out here looking for you. I didn’t—” Your explanation is cut off by the voice of one of the two people who’d walked in from the kitchen.

“Carmilla,” The voice sing-songs. “I know you’re home. And I _will_ come into your room. So you’d better come out here and say hello, or I’m coming in after you.”

“ _I’m coming_.” Carmilla crosses her arms over her chest and turns away from you to greet the people in her living room. You reach out and grab her arm. She turns back to you with a long sigh. “ _What_ , cupcake?”

“I didn’t get to finish what I was saying. I came out here in the first place to ask you what I could wear from your closet.

“Just pick whatever. I don’t care.” You keep a nervous hand on her arm and she slowly peels your fingers off of her. “They’re not going to eat you. Just come out when or if you feel ready. They don’t even have to know you’re here if you want.”

You lick your lips nervously. You could sit here and hide like a part of you wants to. But how could you ever face Carmilla if you hid from her family, who you hadn’t even met yet, like a coward? There is no reason you can’t do this.

“I’ll be out as soon as I’m dressed.” Carmilla smiles and nods before turning to leave her bedroom. She shuts the door behind her. Before you make any move to get dressed, you flop down onto her bed and scream into one of her pillows to vent your frustration.

You can hear the muffled voices of Carmilla talking to her guests through the door once you’ve finished and you groan. Who exactly had you pissed off for this to be happening to you right now? The only two people you know who would be closer to Carmilla than you are only a door away and you’re standing in nothing but a towel.

You roll out of bed and start your search for clothes. Your first thought is your underwear. You’re definitely not putting yesterday’s back on. You could probably find a pair of unworn panties somewhere in Carmilla’s drawers. And her chest is about the same size as yours so borrowing a bra wouldn’t be that big of a deal either.

You make sure her door is locked before dropping the towel and starting to go through her drawers. Going through her underwear is slightly embarrassing, but you manage to find a plain pair of boy-shorts buried underneath an array of thongs.

You put them on and find a simple black bra to put on next. With that done, you move to the pile of clothes lying next to her bed. It pains you to wear something that’s clearly dirty, but pants weren’t so bad. You slide into a pair of her ripped skinny jeans. They aren’t really your style but they fit well enough for you to deal with it for now. You walk to her closet next and sift through her clearly unworn shirts until you find a sweatshirt that looks brand new. It has “SILAS” printed on it in big red and gold letters and that explains why.

You slip it over your head and mentally prepare yourself. You know Carmilla had been adopted by the woman she calls her mother when she was still young soon after her accident. What you didn’t know was that she had an adopted sister as well. You had no idea what to expect. The way Carmilla had reacted to a conversation with her mother solely over the phone makes you nervous.

If Carmilla broke her phone just from that, what was she like face to face? She was probably evil. Maybe she sacrificed girls to some ancient unspeakable evil in her spare time. And Carmilla wasn’t on good terms with her because she didn’t want to be a part of that anymore!

… Okay maybe that was a _little_ overdramatic, but what are you supposed to expect?

You don’t know anything about the woman. Except that she’d made Carmilla upset. Could anyone blame you for assuming the worst?

You perching on her bed isn’t going to get you any answers to your long list of questions or quell your wild imagination. So you steel your nerves with a few deep breaths, stand, and open Carmilla’s bedroom door. Immediately two pairs of eyes turn to you. Carmilla only tilts her head in your direction.

You pull the door closed behind you. Neither pair of eyes leave you, but they don’t make any move to speak. They both look like they’ve just left a photoshoot for the cover of a magazine. They look untouchable. They eye you like you’re an insignificant bug. Nothing but an ant that had crawled into their personal space. It makes you feel small. It makes your skin crawl. You want nothing more than to retreat back into Carmilla’s room and maybe make a daring daylight escape through the window. But a Hollis never runs away.

“Laura.” Carmilla says. It’s more of a statement than an introduction, but it grounds you. Just one word from her and you know you can totally face Carmilla’s very intimidating family. You swallow before you respond.

“Carm.” Both women raise an eyebrow at the nickname. You hope it establishes a familiarity between you and Carmilla to them. You can’t explain it but you don’t want them to assume you’re just some random girl who’d happened to end up at Carmilla’s apartment. You want them to like you. (You blame it on your crush.)

Carmilla gives you a half grin at the nickname, holding out a hand towards you, inviting you to come stand by her side. You move there immediately and she puts a comforting hand on the small of your back. The touch isn’t missed by either of the women sitting at her table and they exchange an unreadable look. It makes you more nervous. But then Carmilla’s thumb rubs against your spine and you find your churning stomach settling.

You wonder when Carmilla became something akin to your rock.

“Mother, Mattie,” she dips her head toward each of them respectively informing you for sure who is who. “This is my,” she hesitates. “Friend, Laura.”

“A little old for slumber parties, wouldn’t you say, kitty cat?” Mattie speaks first. Her voice is teasing but her smirk unsettling. It reminds you of how Carmilla would smile at you when you’d first met her.

“It was late.” Carmilla explains. You force away the shiver that starts when Carmilla runs her fingers slowly up your back as she speaks. “I didn’t feel comfortable letting her walk home alone at night, _Mattie_.” It’s only then you realize—

“Mattie?”

“Have we met before?” Mattie asks, she observes you as if trying to recall your face but failing to place it. You haven’t met her before but—

“My friend, Perry, mentioned she was dating someone named Mattie and—”

“Oh you’re one of Lola’s friends?” Mattie regards you with renewed interest. Not even Lafontaine calls Perry by her first name and they’ve known Perry since they were kids. You wonder how close Mattie and Perry really were. The way Perry had described it hadn’t made it seem as deep as it appears to be.

“Yeah.” Mattie stands slowly and saunters towards you until she’s standing right in front of you (even her walk reminds you of Carmilla!). Mattie is taller than you so you have to look up to keep eye contact. You spend a few uncomfortable beats just maintaining eye contact with her until Mattie grins and turns to Carmilla.

“She’s a tough one, Carm. Cute too. I can see why you’d keep her around...” You narrow your eyes at Mattie, not entirely sure what she’s trying to insinuate. Then Carmilla tugs you against her side and your thoughts shift to the possessive energy radiating from her.

“I appreciate the approval, Mattie.” You look first to Carmilla, then to Mattie. Mattie just smiles so you consider that crisis avoided. You almost relax until you look past Mattie to Carmilla’s mother who’s still seated and glaring very obviously at you. When she sees she has your attention she speaks.

“What are your intentions with Carmilla?” The question throws you off completely. You don’t know exactly how to answer that because you aren’t here with any ulterior motives. You don’t have any real ‘ _intentions_ ’with Carmilla aside from continuing to stay by her side. But you’re unsure if that would be a satisfying answer.

“Um—”

“Mother, must you?” Carmilla cuts you off, which you’re thankful for.

“Carmilla, I know you don’t have many friends.” Her mother drawls, and Carmilla frowns. “So you might have befriended this… Child out of desperation for some kind of human interaction. I’m just trying to make sure—”

“That’s something I can decide for myself, don’t you think?” Carmilla’s mother rolls her eyes at that.

“ _Fine_.” Even you can tell that isn’t the end of that conversation, but her mother moves on. “Regardless, we have lunch plans.”

“I wasn’t aware of this.” Carmilla grumbles, her hand moves to grip your upper arm and you fist a hand in the back of her shirt.

“Why don’t you bring your little friend here with us? She could… Get to know the family.”

“That would be her decision.” All three of them turn to face you. Before you can even start to debate the decision with yourself, your stomach growls and you blush.

“I could eat.” You say. Mattie outright laughs at you.

“Wonderful.” Carmilla’s mother stands and moves towards the door. “I expect the both of you downstairs in the next ten minutes so we can leave.”

With that, Carmilla’s mother exits the apartment. Mattie follows without another word to either of you and closes the door behind her. You’re about to turn to grab your phone from Carmilla’s room when she stops you with her hands on your shoulders.

“Are you sure about this?”

“About what exactly?” She runs her fingers through her hair with a sigh.

“Coming to lunch with us. I can tell them you felt sick or something and you can skip out.” That was honestly a little tempting. But only a little. You’re nervous but you’re trying not let it get the better of you. Both for your sake and Carmilla’s.

“Why would I want to skip out on lunch? It’s not like we’ve eaten anything yet and it’s almost noon.” You poke her in the stomach and try for a good humored response. “Not all of us stay in until four pm, Carm.”

Carmilla doesn’t look as amused as you’d hoped.

“You don’t really know what they can be like, Laura.”

“I’m sure they’re not _that_ bad. Besides it’s just this one time.” Carmilla’s lower lip sticks out just slightly. It is unnecessarily cute.

“I don’t want them to scare you off.” She finally admits.

“Carm.” Her pout deepens and you lift your hands to her cheeks. You pull her down to you until her forehead presses against yours. She takes a deep breath and you feel her relax. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay.” She breathes after a few seconds. “I’ll try and keep them from interrogating you too much more.”

“I can handle myself.” You don’t mean for it to come out defensively it was just… You may be nervous about this whole thing, but you don’t like when people think they need to cradle you like a child. You are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.

Carmilla only smiles and tilts her head up to press her lips to your forehead. It’s not quite a kiss, more just the feeling of her lips brushing against your skin. Even just that is enough to make you feel weak in the knees and for your heartbeat to speed up to the point you feel it would be entirely possible to pass out right then.

“I know.” She says softly. Then she pulls away and heads into her room. You follow after you get yourself together. How did Carmilla keep having this much of an effect on you just from the smallest of actions? You can’t even explain the draw between the two of you. There’s something there, you know it. Or perhaps it was wishful thinking.

Those kind of thoughts only served to depress you, so you decide to instead switch to talking about Carmilla’s family to her. Carmilla shoves a few things into her pockets like her phone, wallet, and keys. You start to do the same as you speak.

“So, your family… They’re kind of intense.” Carmilla snorts.

“And you’d know all about intense wouldn’t you?”

“I’m not— I am _not_ intense. I am like super chill. The chill-est.” Carmilla only acknowledges your response with an unimpressed huff before standing up straight. You check your pockets to make sure you have everything as you move towards her, continuing to defend yourself. “I am!”

“Whatever you say, cutie. Now let’s go, if you have everything you think you need. My mother doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” When she holds out a hand for you to take you do. But you keep your feet planted when she tries to tug you forward. “What now?”

“Okay so… I know I told you I wanted to do this but I’m nervous and I want you to tell me I’m overreacting.” You admit. Her reaction is immediate, she turns towards you with a concerned look releasing your hand.

“Come here.” Carmilla’s says it one of the softest tones you’ve ever heard her direct at you. Even softer than last night. She opens her arms for you and you move into her immediately, wrapping your arms around her waist and burying your face in her chest. Carmilla slowly slides her hands beneath the sweatshirt you’re wearing, her fingers digging firmly into your skin. It burns where she’s touching you in the best possible way but you just hold her a little tighter to savor this moment. “Why are you nervous?”

“Because this is your _family_. I don’t want them to hate me.” She shifts to rest her chin on the top of your head. Just minutes ago you’d been reassuring _her_ this was a good idea, and now _she_ was the one reassuring you. When this relationship started, it was you who needed her. And then she’d needed you. Maybe what you needed was a little bit of each other.

“Don’t worry about them, sweetheart. Their bark is much worse than their bite. They won’t do anything to you if they think it will upset me. More Mattie than my mother but—You’ll be fine, cupcake. I promise.” You believe her. You really do. Just a little reassurance from her is quelling your residual anxiety about this lunch.

Carmilla’s word means a lot to you. _She_ means a lot to you. And even if her family _did_ hate you, you aren’t planning on going anywhere.

* * *

 

 **The ride to the** restaurant isn’t as awkward as you’d expected it to be. You sit in silence listening as Carmilla and Mattie catch up on the past couple weeks. Mattie drives while Carmilla’s mother sits stoic and untouchable in the seat beside her. You keep an eye on her the entire ride, but she doesn’t even so much as shift her position once. She’s like a statue.

She’s scary.

Mattie pulls into an Applebee’s parking lot. When she gets out, she immediately moves around to open the door for Carmilla’s mother. She steps out and walks inside behind Mattie, leaving you and Carmilla alone.

“You ready?” Carmilla asks.

“Whenever you are.” With a short nod, Carmilla opens the car door and steps out. You follow immediately. Carmilla uses her walking stick to navigate her way inside and you follow closely behind. Mattie and her mother are waiting inside for both of you, the waitress ready to lead all four of you to your booth.

Once there, Carmilla’s mother takes the inside seat and Mattie slides in next to her. Carmilla slides in first on the opposite side and you move in next to her. As usual, her hand lands on your thigh and she squeezes. Your hand slides over hers and you squeeze back. Neither of you change expressions, but it reminds you she’s here with you. You can only hope it does the same for her.

That brief moment of relaxation is abruptly snatched away when Carmilla’s mother meets your eye.

“So ‘Laura’ is it?” You stiffen and throw up your guard. You don’t know what she’s going to say and you’re honestly a bit scared to find out.

“Mother—” Carmilla tries to cut in but she’s ignored.

“Carmilla has no doubt painted me as some evil step-figure. Which is far from the truth so I’d appreciate if you’d drop this defensive demeanor.” Your eyes widen. You’d thought you were being subtle. “Oh yes. I notice everything, dear. I only want what’s best for my sweet girl, you understand? As her mother, adopted or not, I’d love to see her doing well in her personal life.”

“ _Mother_.” Carmilla tries again and Carmilla’s mother looks annoyed for the first time since you’ve seen her.

“I don’t like being interrupted, _Carmilla_.” Carmilla pouts and slouches in her seat. You squeeze her hand again in a way you hope is comforting. Carmilla’s mother is grinning knowingly at you, your move to comfort Carmilla clearly not missed by her ever watchful eye.

“Carmilla’s told me you care about her. That’s all.” It’s not a lie. Carmilla _did_ tell you her mother cares about her. She just cared so much it was slightly smothering and frustrated her.

“You never did answer my question about what your intentions with her were.” Your panic rises immediately but you’re saved again from having to answer that by the waitress returning to get your orders for drinks. Mattie and Carmilla’s mother both go with teas. Carmilla gets a coke and you ask for a water. You don’t need any sugar to make you jittery right now. (Not something you’d ever thought you might say.)

Once the waitress has left, Carmilla tries again to stop her mother from questioning you.

“Can we please not give my friend here the third degree?”

“I would _hardly_ call it the third degree.” Her mother replies with a glare in Carmilla’s direction. Unlike with your glares, Carmilla actually looks nervous despite not being able to actually see the look. “You were always one for dramatics, even from when I first adopted you after your accident. I’m sure you’ve had a taste of them haven’t you, Laura? When did the two of you meet anyway, I—”

“Mother, honestly.” Mattie finally cuts in with a short roll of her eyes. “You don’t _actually_ care about any of this all of us know it. Besides, I’m sure our little monster here knows exactly what she’s doing. If Carmilla found her to be a nuisance, she wouldn’t be sitting with us right now.”

“Fine, fine.” She doesn’t look pleased at having her game cut short but you could kiss Mattie you’re so grateful. “Perhaps you can tell us a little more about yourself while we eat.” It’s not a request. It’s a clear decision made on her part for you, but you’re too intimidated to protest.

“Yeah, sure.” The waitress comes back within a few seconds to set down your drinks, then you all order your food. Instead of letting you just ramble aimlessly, the Dean asks you question after question about your studies which you answer to the best of your abilities. Carmilla eventually moves her hand over top of yours and occasionally gives you a reassuring squeeze which you’re thankful for, even if she chooses to remain silent this time around.

It’s an offhand remark from Mattie that informs you that you’re, in fact, having lunch with the Dean of Students of Silas University.

“Why didn’t you tell me your mother was the Dean?” Carmilla doesn’t even look the slightest bit guilty.

“It didn’t seem like pertinent information.” How could it _not_?

“Calm down.” Carmilla’s mo— _The Dean_ speaks. “I won’t be expelling you or anything over your relationship with Carmilla.” Carmilla takes a sip of her coke beside you, chuckling to herself. You pinch the back of her hand which makes her choke on her drink. Before you can really enjoy your small victory, your food is being set down in front of you and all conversation at the table dies.

In front of her mother, Carmilla eats like she’s been taught proper table manners. It’s strange and an uninvited kind of different. Even though she isn’t stiff like she is around strangers, it’s weird to see her sitting up straight and eating without her elbows on the table. To see her eat slowly instead of stuffing her face.

Was it only you she was fully herself around?

You prefer Carmilla when she’s slouching. When she’s not afraid to tease you even if she’s being a bit mean. For once, it’s you who slides their hand under the table to squeeze her thigh. Carmilla’s hand slides back under the table and she skims her fingers across your knuckles. Then she returns to eating. But not before flashing you that small smile you know is only for you.

The Carmilla you know is still there.

* * *

 

 **Mattie drives you all** back to Carmilla’s apartment once you’ve all finished eating. Neither the Dean nor Mattie bother making a move to get out of the car once she pulls up in the front, but Carmilla gets out of the car immediately. Before you can follow her, the Dean turns in her seat to face you.

“I must say it has been an absolute pleasure meeting you this afternoon, Miss Hollis.” Even though her words are kind and you can sense their sincerity, it sends a chill down your spine. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“Don’t let her scare you.” Mattie adds in. “Take care of our girl, won’t you?”

“I will.” You promise. “You treat Perry right.”

“Don’t you worry about that.” Mattie winks at you with a small grin and you think you’ve earned her respect. You smile back and finally follow after Carmilla out of the car. She’s waiting for you on the sidewalk.

“More interrogation?”

“No. They were actually kind of nice.” Carmilla snorts her disbelief.

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” Carmilla turns and walks upstairs, leaving you to trail after her. She unlocks her door and lets you in first before closing it behind her. The apartment is just as you’ve left it and the space is becoming familiar to you with the more time you spend here.

“I should probably go.” You say, starting to grab your things from where they’ve been moved to her couch.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, cupcake.”

“I don’t want to but I do have that paper to finish. If I stay here I’ll never get anything done.”

“I see.” You walk toward her until you’re standing right in front of her and take one of her hands in yours.

“I wish I could just live here sometimes. I like it here.” The unspoken ‘with you’ lingers in the air but you keep your mouth shut. That’s not a confession you’re entirely sure you want to say out loud. Carmilla laces her fingers through yours.

“You’re welcome here anytime. When you’re not neglecting your school work.” You smile to yourself and lower your head. “Now get going. It’s getting late again.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me gone.” You release her hands and shoulder your bag. You think about going to get your dirty clothes from her room, but you figure you’ll be back before the end of the week if not tomorrow so you decide on leaving them where they are. Before you can turn to leave, Carmilla reaches out again and grips your arm. You turn back to her.

“Never.” Carmilla breathes. Your breath hitches and before you’ve thought about it you’re tugging her towards you. Carmilla’s arms wrap around your shoulders and you let her hold you for a few long seconds. When you raise your hands to place them on her back, she lets you go. “I’ll talk to you later, cupcake.”

“Yeah. Bye, Carm.” She raises a hand to wave goodbye and you reluctantly leave. The word ‘never’ repeats in your head over and over as you walk back to your dorm.

* * *

 

 **You aren’t entirely surprised** to find Betty and Danny cuddled up in Betty’s bed when you get back. They’re watching something on a laptop that’s sitting on Danny’s lap while Betty leans on her shoulder. That is until you’ve completely entered the room and are setting your keys on the headboard of your bed. Betty slams the spacebar to pause whatever’s playing and jumps up immediately. Danny frowns at your interruption and you give her an apologetic smile before Betty is standing in front of you.

“Where have you been young lady? I was worried sick.” Betty’s voice is full of distinctly mock disappointment, but it reminds you too much of your dad. You briefly wonder if you liked Betty better when she ignored you.

“You sound just like my dad, Betty. Please don’t do that.”

“I’m just trying to be a better, more concerted roommate. And seriously, where were you? You can’t even text a girl back?” It’s then you remember your phone had died this morning before you could text her back. And then the distraction of Carmilla’s family prevented you from making any action towards responding to her.

“Crap. I’m sorry, Betty. My phone died while I was at Carmilla’s—”

“Wait, you were at Carmilla’s apartment that _entire_ time?” Betty exclaims.

“How long was she gone?” Danny adds in, sliding the laptop off her lap to sit on the edge of the bed. She’s half-glaring at you and you raise an eyebrow at her, not really getting her piqued interest. You turn your attention back to Betty who’s answering Danny’s question.

“Since around… This time yesterday?” Danny turns back to you.

“What were you doing?”

“We were just hanging out. Not that that’s really your business.” You really don’t want to deal with Danny’s apparent vendetta against Carmilla right now. Or ever. Danny holds up her hands defensively at your response.

“Don’t bite my head off or anything. I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t _need_ any help.” You set your bag down on your bed and start to put your hair up. “Carmilla is fine. What’s your problem with her anyway?”

“She just gives me a weird vibe.”

“That doesn’t mean you need to bad mouth her every time she’s brought up in your presence. Carmilla’s my friend.”

“… Sorry.”

“Whatever.” You snap.

“I’m sure Danny doesn’t mean to antagonize your gi—Er, _Carmilla_.” You can’t entirely blame Betty for trying to defend her girlfriend (or that slip up), but you don’t want to hear it.

“I don’t care. Carmilla is my friend. My _best_ friend. I don’t want to hear you talking bad about her when you won’t even give her a chance.”

“Fine. I’ll keep my comments to myself. Sorry.” Danny slouches dejectedly and Betty is at her side immediately. You go into the bathroom to try and level your head. Your first instinct once the door is shut behind you is to call Carmilla. When you do, she answers on the second ring.

“Did you miss me that much, sweetheart?” It’s an immediate relief just hearing her voice.

“I might have.” You can imagine that little smile that might come in response to that and it makes you smile to yourself. You turn and lean back against the bathroom sink.

“You feel better now?”

“I do.”

“You’re adorable, cupcake.” The compliment makes you blush and lean harder into the counter. “Did you have something you wanted to talk about?”

“I was just wondering what happened between you and Danny that she doesn’t like you so much?” Carmilla doesn’t answer you for a moment but you hear her shifting like she’s turning in bed.

“I don’t have a specific issue with her. But if she’s going to be hostile towards me, I’m going to be hostile right back.”

“Don’t you think that might be the problem?”

“You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t care.” The tone of her voice only makes you sigh.

“Can’t you two get along?”

“No.”

“ _Why not_?”

“Not everyone is weirdly friends with everyone like you are.”

“Oh thanks.”

“I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to insult you. I’m just trying to point out a fact.”

“I know, I know.” Clearly this conversation wasn’t going anywhere. So you decide to drop it. “Hey, Carm?”

“Hm?”

“Did you know that in Alaska it’s illegal to whisper in someone’s ear while they’re moose hunting?” Your random fact makes her laugh. You don’t know if you could ever get used to how hearing her laughing makes you feel. Carmilla glares so much it’s surprising she doesn’t have frown lines. It just makes every time you make her laugh feel like a win.

“Like I told you earlier, you’re adorable. I’d like to take a nap so I’m going to have to hang up on you, sweetheart.”

“It’s like five pm.” You lift a hand to twirl a strand of hair between your fingers.

“There’s never not a good time for a quick nap. I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

“Okay. Sleep well.” Carmilla hangs up and you sigh happily. You honest to God hold your phone against your chest like in one of those cliché romantic comedies. You just can’t help yourself. Even just a short phone conversation with her leaves you on a high.

Why did you have to ruin everything by letting your crush get deeper?

* * *

 

 **Okay. So _maybe_ this** is a lot deeper than a crush. You think you can admit that. It has been three weeks since you’d met Carmilla’s family and you practically live at her apartment now. You may have taken her invitation to come by whenever you wanted a little too seriously. A good portion of your clothes have made their way into her dirty clothes pile and Carmilla’s worn your favorite flannel to sleep more times than you’d like to acknowledge.

You’ve also been out with her sister a few more times. Mattie has made it her personal goal to embarrass you at least once every time you’re out with her and Carmilla. The Dean hasn’t come back since that first visit but Carmilla has warned you she’d be very likely to come by at any time.

That _something_ is definitely still there. You can feel it every time you’re standing too close to her. Every time she touches you. There’s a spark there. There’s no way you’ve been imagining it. You just wonder if Carmilla feels it too. You’re afraid to ask directly. You don’t know if you’re more scared she’ll reject you or that she’ll actually return your feelings.

Carmilla is just… A dream. She is everything you’d never known you’d wanted. She came into your life under weird circumstances. Now you can’t imagine how you’d went about your life without knowing her all this time. Carmilla is nice when she wants to be. And yes, she could be the biggest ass. But she could be sweet. And so lovely. And you like her a lot. You like her too much.

Of course you end up asking her the strangest question out of the blue on a random sunny April afternoon.

You’ve just turned your final paper in for your Creative Writing class. With the beginning of May coming and classes drawing to a close you still have a week left to turn in your paper, but you decided to turn it in early since you’d already finished. Carmilla is sitting beside you on her couch listening to a documentary on big cats that she’s put on her television.

She sips slowly on a mug of cocoa she’d made for herself. ( _Your_ cocoa, you can’t help but note. You’d bought it when you’d had a craving earlier that week but Carmilla had been the one drinking most of it.) You feel like the biggest pervert watching her mouth and you blurt out something dumb.

“When’s the last time you kissed someone?” Carmilla looks confused as to where that question came from and you honestly can’t blame her.

“Why?” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Just curious.” She doesn’t look entirely convinced.

“There was a girl my freshman year.” Carmilla muses, setting her mug down. She scoots closer to you like she does every time she opens up about something. She leans back against her couch and tilts her head backwards. “Her name was Ell. She was a sweet girl. And one of the first people to treat me like a normal person in a while at the time. I liked her and kissed her one night. My relationship with her was nice while it lasted but we grew apart. So I broke up with her. It wasn’t a bad break up but I haven’t kept contact with her. Not that it’s an excuse but you’ve been on the bad side of my terrible communication skills.”

“That’s unfortunate though. About you and her.” Carmilla shrugs.

“I suppose. What about you?”

“It’s embarrassing.” You admit and Carmilla pats your knee with a hand.

“I’m not going to judge you, Laura.” You look up at her and her expression reads sincerity. You know Carmilla wouldn’t do that to you, still the story is one you like to pretend hadn’t happened.

“Okay, um, I went to a party last semester and kissed some random girl trying to get over a thing with someone.” Carmilla raises an eyebrow, but before she can ask you the question you think is on her mind. “It didn’t work. I don’t even know who the girl was.”

“Too bad.” Carmilla leans back again and rests her hands on the back of her head.

“Have you wanted to kiss anyone recently?” You know this question is a lot less subtle than your previous one, but your courage was up this afternoon and you were pushing your nerves aside.

“Maybe.” She says. You feel a rush of heat as you watch her. She lowers her arms, one hand falling into her lap and the other stretching over the back of the couch where you’re sitting. You swallow the lump in your throat.

“Why haven’t you kissed her yet?”

“I wasn’t sure if… _She_ was interested.” Carmilla keeps her face turned towards you as she speaks. Were you imagining her leaning towards you little by little? She couldn’t be—

“Is she giving you mixed signals?” You ask a bit quietly and the hand that’s in her lap shifts to creep along your knee. Her fingers are tapping out an unfamiliar rhythm. There is no way you asking her about kissing has led to—

“Not quite. But I just didn’t want to assume anything.” It’s hard to think straight with Carmilla leaning in and her voice low in your ears.

“I’m sure _she_ would—Uh—She wouldn’t be opposed to—” You sputter out. Carmilla’s breath ghosts against your upper lip and your breath hitches.

“Stop talking.” She whispers.

Then she closes the distance between you and her lips press against yours. For a moment you’re too blissed out to remember to kiss her back.

Once her hand rises from your knee to slip to the back of your neck, you return the kiss eagerly. There’s a rush of heat and the urge to shove your tongue down her throat rises, but you enjoy the slow pace she creates. You like the cautious gentle way Carmilla is kissing you. All the books you’ve read had it wrong. It feels like you’re breathing for the first time. Like every nerve in your body was suddenly coming alive. When Carmilla pulls away you stare up at her with wide eyes.

“Carm—”

“Is this okay?” She asks.

“Yes. _God_ , yes. Please kiss me.” She complies with a small smile. The feel of her smiling against your lips is what really gets you. Carmilla’s kissing you. _You_ ’ _re_ kissing Carmilla. The girl you’ve had a crush on for months now. You’re kissing your crush. She liked you back.

She likes you back.

You tangle your fingers in her hair and are so pleased to find it’s just as soft as it looks. You’re pretty content with just making out with her on her couch until she abruptly breaks away from you with a soft gasp. You pull your fingers from her hair immediately and look up at her, worried maybe she’d changed her mind.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Oh my God.” Carmilla’s not even paying attention to you. This reaction isn’t because of you. You reach out for her. You cup her face in your hands, suddenly unsure if you’re overstepping. Carmilla calms under your touch and turns back to you. Her lips are still wet from kissing you but she licks them as soon as you glance down at them. You turn your focus back up to meet her unseeing gaze.

“What’s wrong?” She doesn’t look scared exactly, just slightly lost. She swallows before she answers you.

“You remember I told you I technically wasn’t completely blind in my left eye.” Your heart sinks. _Oh no_. _It couldn’t—_

“Yes.”

“Well I don’t think I can say that anymore.”

“It—”

“Blinked out like flicking a light switch.” You don’t know what you’re supposed to do in this kind of situation. So you say the only word on your mind.

“Fuck.”


	8. You Know

**Your curse lingers** **awkwardly** in the air between the two of you. You don’t curse often, even now the word feels weird coming off your tongue and sounds strange to your ears. Yet it repeats in your head over and over.

Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._

Carmilla raises an eyebrow at your choice of words, knowing you try and keep your language PG.  (You’d grown up with a swear jar at home and losing your money had led to a habit of trying to keep it clean.) You shift your hands from where you’re still cupping her cheeks to pull her sunglasses off of her face. You feel like an asshole for it, but you wave your hand slowly in front of her face.

“Nothing?” You ask desperately.

“Aside from feeling the motion of your hand in front of my face, I can’t see a thing.” Carmilla closes her eyes and rubs the inside of her left eye with an index finger. “Fuck.” You set her glasses down in your lap and watch as she counts to herself under her breath to calm herself down. Carmilla’s hands find yours in your lap and she squeezes them once before she speaks again. “I’m okay.”

At first you don’t know if she’s saying this for own sake or yours. Until she repeats the phrase once more and lifts your hands to press a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m okay.”

“Carm—”

“Cupcake, I promise you. I am okay. Just… Don’t go anywhere right now.” Carmilla keeps her eyes closed as she makes her request, her breathing steady despite the desperation you hear in her words.

“I won’t. I’m not going to leave you, Carmilla. Okay?” You scoot closer and brush her hair away from her face. Carmilla’s been letting her bangs grow out but that only meant her hair fell into her face a lot more often. You keep a hand on it so it stays out of her face, but Carmilla keeps her eyes closed. When you scoot closer, she wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you against her.

“Thank you.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen her look so small.

“Carm, shouldn’t we call someone? Like Mattie or maybe your mother?”

“ _No_.” Carmilla hisses. Her defensive tone catches you off guard. Carmilla must notice because she immediately lowers her voice. “No. My mother is working right now. You can’t call her.”

She finally opens her eyes again and it’s a bit unnerving knowing she’s seeing nothing. You can’t even imagine how you might feel. Carmilla seems to have accepted the new development now. You just don’t know if she’s just pretending to save face or not. You know asking wouldn’t really help anything so you don’t.

“But we should call some—”

“Call Mattie.”

“Mattie?”

“Yes. Mattie has the number to my optometrist and can get me an emergency appointment. We… Have an agreement with their offices.” You wonder if you should care about this agreement that allowed Carmilla to just make appointments whenever she wants, but decide not to worry about it right now. Carmilla hands you her phone from her back pocket and lays down with her head in your lap.

You’re not exactly sure where to put your hands. In one hand you hold her phone, the other stays in the air beside your head. You swallow slowly.

“Are you comfortable?” You ask and she grins.

“Very.” Slowly, you move a hand down and when you run it through her hair she relaxes further into you. Seeing her completely relaxed despite how bad this situation might be to you makes you feel better. You unlock her phone and scroll through her contacts until you find Mattie’s number. You hit the call button and she picks up almost immediately.

“Well this is a surprise, Carmilla. You never call me anymore. Always too busy caught up in your not so subtle scheme to woo—”

“Um, hi, Mattie.” Mattie falls silent for a moment and you look down to see a grimace on Carmilla’s face and an embarrassed flush on her cheeks. You try not to smile too smugly. Trying to woo someone, huh?

“Well good afternoon, Laura. Is there a reason you’re calling me from my sister’s phone?”

“Something might have happened.” That clearly isn’t the right way to phrase that because you hear Mattie’s voice immediately turn frighteningly serious.

“What happened?” Carmilla snatches her phone from you.

“Mattie—”

“Carmilla? What happened?” Mattie is loud enough that you can hear her clearly despite the phone being held up to Carmilla’s ear.

“I can’t see.”

“Well that’s not new information.” Mattie scoffs. “Why do you think Maman has us drop by unannounced every now and then?”

“No. I mean—You know Maman has been pressuring me to have my left eye tested to see if there was any chance the vision could be restored?”

“Yes, I was aware.”

“Well I can’t see anything anymore. So I need to see Dr. Callis to verify whether this is permanent or not. You know how to take care of that, right?”

“I do. But we should probably tell Mother—”

“ _Don’t_ tell Mother.”

“Carmilla, you know she’ll be very upset with the both of us if we don’t tell her now.”

“I will deal with that later. Right now, she’s working and she’ll drop everything to take care of this herself if we bother her. I’ll tell her later, I promise. But right now I’m not going to tell her.” Mattie sighs.

“Fine. But you’re taking the blame for this, sis. I’ll be there to pick you up soon.”

“Thank you.” Mattie hangs up without another word and Carmilla hands her phone back to you. You set it to the side and return to running your fingers obsessively through her hair. You just can’t help yourself. Her hair is one of the softest textures you’ve ever felt between your fingers. It helps that every time your nails scratch her scalp, Carmilla downright _purrs_.

It takes you a while to say anything else to her. Mainly because you’re unsure what you should say. Was there anything helpful to say to someone who suddenly might be without one of their senses the rest of their life? It wasn’t like Carmilla wasn’t aware of this possibility or that she’d been expecting to get her sight back miraculously, but now it may be gone for good.

“Hey, Carm?”

“Hm?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I mean… I think I am. I just—I know there was a _chance_ and—” Carmilla just shakes her head a little and smiles up at you.

“If I’m being honest with you, I think it might be a bit of a relief if this _is_ permanent. I mean—I know people with similar issues to mine really do fear losing their sight completely. But for me it was just _so_ fucked before.” Carmilla pauses for a second but you don’t say anything, figuring she just needed to get this off of her chest. “I didn’t want to but even if I’d gotten the tests done and they had told me they might be able to fix my vision even the slightest bit, there was always a chance it wouldn’t have worked. I think not having to worry about those _‘what ifs’_ anymore might be a bit liberating.” You keep silent and continue carding your fingers through her hair. Carmilla doesn’t say anything else though.

Even though the two of you are in the middle of a shitty situation, you can’t help but feel content here with her. But then you’re always in your best state of mind when you’re with Carmilla these days. Even if you did spend a majority of the time imagining kissing her. You kind of really want to kiss her now but you don’t think it would be appropriate.

Still, you can remember how soft her lips had been against yours. You can still feel how her body had pressed against you and how firm her hand had been on the back of your neck. You remember how _right_ it had felt. You can’t even begin to convince yourself that the kiss hadn’t meant anything to her. It had to. You just don’t know exactly what. Before you can ask, her front doorknob jiggles. Then you hear an aggravated groan and a reluctant knock.

You’re glad you’d decided to lock Carmilla’s door behind you when you’d arrived this afternoon. Normally Carmilla leaves her front door unlocked which you don’t really understand considering she lives in an apartment complex and not a dorm. Today you’re glad you’d taken the initiative to lock it just because as much as you’ve come to like Mattie, you did not need her walking in on Carmilla lying in your lap and giving her more things to tease you about.

Carmilla sits up slowly with an annoyed groan and gets up to open the door. Once she pulls it open, she’s immediately engulfed in the arms of someone who is definitely not Mattie, but has a familiar head of curly red hair.

“Perry?” You exclaim, not understanding why she’s here. Mattie steps into the apartment after Perry, who still has a very clearly uncomfortable Carmilla in a bear hug. Mattie gives you a short wave that you return as she pulls at Perry’s shoulder until the redhead releases Carmilla from her hold. Perry keeps her hands on Carmilla’s shoulders as she speaks.

“Mattie told me everything. I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

“I’m fine.” Carmilla grumbles, giving Mattie a frown that makes her chuckle.

“Sorry about the unannounced company, kitty cat. We were together when I called Dr. Callis. She’s agreed to meet with you as soon as we can get there. I figured you’d want this done sooner rather than later so I didn’t bother dropping her back at her dorm.” Carmilla pushes Perry’s hands off of her as you get up and start to grab her things so the four of you can go.

“Then we can go as soon as I—” You move quickly to her side and press her phone, wallet and keys into one hand and her sunglasses into the other. “Get my things. Always eager to please, huh, cupcake?”

You bump your hip against hers and she smiles at you as she slides her glasses onto her face. It makes you feel a lot better seeing her still smiling despite everything. Maybe she really _is_ okay. You slide into your sneakers and stand up straight. Carmilla grabs her walking stick from beside her door and then she throws her arm casually over your shoulders as the two of you follow Mattie and Perry back out of her apartment.

* * *

 

 **It’s a longer drive** than you thought it might be to get to Carmilla’s specific optometrist. You learn on the way that there are special optometrists for people with low vision. Dr. Callis has been working with Carmilla and helping her with her slowly worsening vision since she first came to live with the Dean and Mattie. You learn all of this from Mattie though. Carmilla is silent the entire ride but keeps a hold on your hand, her thumb running back and forth across your knuckles.

You don’t want to interrupt whatever may be going through Carmilla’s head so you’re forced to listen to Mattie and Perry’s not so subtle flirting in the front seats. It’s strange. You’ve never seen Perry like this, so laid back and playful. It’s like she’s an entire different person that Mattie has brought to life. You glance at Carmilla as the thought goes through your head. You think maybe you do the same for her.

Carmilla turns towards you then as if she can sense you watching her and the corner of her mouth pulls into a grin.

“Can I help you?”

“How did you know I was looking at you?”

“I think I might have a sixth sense for you, creampuff.” Something about the way she says that makes you blush. Her thumb starts to trace random patterns onto the back of your hand.

“You’re the biggest flirt I know.” You mutter to deflect the comment and Carmilla laughs before leaning into you.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” She whispers back. You avert your eyes and see Mattie staring at you in the rearview mirror. When she sees you looking back at her, she winks and you snap your gaze to the window hoping your flushed face isn’t as embarrassingly obvious as it feels.

* * *

 

 **It takes a full** half hour to get to Dr. Callis’ office. The building Mattie leads the three of you into has two floors. The first is what you’re used to seeing for regular eye examinations, the walls covered in racks of different pairs of glasses. The walls behind them are white and the carpet beneath your feet a mint green. In the far right, tucked into a corner is a receptionist behind a desk. She doesn’t look up at any of you, continuing to type into the computer sitting in front of her. Mattie immediately walks up to the receptionist once she sees her and begins speaking with her.

Carmilla’s hand is still in yours and she gives it a squeeze before she turns to face you.

“I’ll be right back, alright?” You raise a hand to squeeze her bicep comfortingly.

“Yeah. Of course. I’ll be here.” Carmilla licks her lips and her head bobs toward you, just enough for you to think she’s going to kiss you again. But then Mattie makes her way back toward you and Perry, who’s pretending not to pay attention to you and Carmilla. Carmilla backs away and releases her hold on you. You miss her closeness already but you know she has to go.

“She’s ready for you upstairs.” Mattie says and Carmilla nods.

“I’ll see you in a bit, cupcake, ginger.” Perry doesn’t look thrilled by that nickname. Mattie presses a chaste kiss to Perry’s cheek before her and Carmilla head into the back and upstairs. You and Perry stand awkwardly in the middle of the lobby for a moment before Perry clears her throat.

“So, Laura. How are things going with your—With Carmilla?”

“What do you mean?” Perry pauses for a moment, trying to think of the right thing to say.

“It’s mostly gossip between friends, sweetie. You know we worry about you.” You frown and Perry backpedals. “I just heard through the grapevine that you’ve been spending a lot of time at Carmilla’s apartment.” Perry busies her hands fiddling with a rack of glasses. “And as your Floor Don and your friend, I just wanted to let you know that you can tell me anything if you feel you need to.”

You know Perry isn’t trying to pressure you into getting the details of your personal feelings toward Carmilla. If any of your friends would listen to you without making you feel weird about your feelings, you trust it to be Perry. Plus, Perry had always been a good listener since the beginning of the year when you hadn’t been sure what you were doing on your own in university.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Perry smiles when you say that.

“Whatever you have to say will stay between the two of us as long as you want it to.” Perry pats your shoulder with one hand and you take a deep breath. You’re nervous to admit this out loud. It’s easier knowing in your own mind how you feel. It was an entirely different thing saying it out loud to someone.

“I like her.” That wasn’t as bad as you thought it might be. “I like her a lot.” It’s easier to say it the second time. It’s a little liberating to have it out in the air. That is until you look at Perry whose downright _beaming_ at you.

“I knew it!” You feel your cheeks turning red.

“Perry, please.”

“When Lafontaine had been teasing you about liking Carmilla, I thought they were just being invasive.” Perry goes back to adjusting glasses momentarily. “But then I saw the way your face would light up when you got a text from her or when you spoke of her. I could see how much you care about her.” Perry looks away from the rack of glasses to meet your eyes. “We could all see it, Laura. It’s just hearing you admit it… It’s really sweet.”

“Was I that obvious?” Perry laughs and you look down at your hands.

“If it helps, Carmilla obviously feels the same about you. It’s clear in how she treats you. I mean, you saw how she reacted when you’d first met her. She can be downright cruel when she wants to be. But with you, and only with you, she’s softer. You know?” You do know. You’ve noticed over and over how different she is from when you’d met her. You notice it every day.

“I know.” You tell Perry. She looks satisfied at your answer.

“And who knows? Maybe if you make a move and Mattie and I last, we’ll all be family.”

“I think I’d like that, Perry.” She wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes.

“Good. Now tell me,” she picks a random pair of glasses from the rack and puts them on. “Do you think I could pull off glasses if I needed to?”

You spend the rest of the time waiting for Carmilla and Mattie to return trying on different pairs of glasses with Perry. The two of you giggling as some of the pairs that make you look silly and taking pictures.

* * *

 

 **Carmilla and Mattie come** back downstairs sometime after you and Perry get bored and sit down to start discussing finals week. Perry sees them first, nudging you and pointing in the direction of them coming out from the back. Mattie stops to speak with the receptionist again. You both stand up.

“Go talk to her, sweetie.” Perry gives you an encouraging smile, then leaves you to join Mattie.

You can’t help but watch Carmilla as she stands in the middle of the lobby for a moment. She has her arms crossed over her chest and her sunglasses perched on the bridge of her nose. Her eyebrows are furrowed and she seems to be looking for something.

Maybe someone.

Maybe you.

“Hey.” You say, walking until you’re standing right in front of her. You watch her features relax and you think back to what Perry had said about her being softer around you. You suddenly wish you’d said something more meaningful than a simple ‘Hey,’ but Carmilla’s lips curl into a smile.

“Hey.” You can’t explain why but her saying it back suddenly makes everything feel like it’s okay. Like _she’s_ okay. Carmilla lifts her hands hesitantly, clearly not knowing where she’s allowed to put them. You move your hands to her wrists. You rest her hands on your cheeks and she brushes her thumbs across your cheekbones.

“What did your doctor say?”

“She’s not one hundred percent sure at the moment and I’ll need to come back next week, but it looks like this might be permanent.”

“Oh, Carm—”

“ _Laura_.” The way she breathes your name sends a chill down your spine. Carmilla’s hands are still warm in your own and she shakes her head slowly. “I told you, I’m fine. I promise.”

“Really?” She nods.

“I told you earlier, it was already going away slowly. It was going to be gone sooner or later; it was just a matter of when or how. At the very least, now I don’t have to wake up wondering if I’ll go completely blind tomorrow. At least,” she bites the side of her lip. “At least I have you. I—I _do_ have you, right?”

Your heart skips a beat and your breath hitches as you look up at her. One of Carmilla’s hands slides from your grip to hold one of your arms. You don’t know what to say. But because of your silence, Carmilla continues.

“Laura, it’s just—You mean a lot to me. I know I’m not the easiest person to be around and I know I’m not really good at talking about my feelings. But even if I never get to see the stars again, I think being with you is enough. It’s a little like being touched by stars every day.” You’re embarrassed by the way you tear up at her words. It’s just that she’s so _cute_ when she’s flustered.

“You’re so corny.” You push at her shoulders with a laugh and Carmilla snorts.

“I’m trying to pour my heart out and you’re laughing at me.” She grumbles, her face forming a displeased pout. “Figures.”

“If you wanted to say you like me you could have just said so, Carm.” You move your hands from her shoulders to grip the collar of her shirt, pulling her in closer to you. She leans into you and her nose brushes against yours. “I like you too.”

“I was trying to be romantic. But that’s a relief. It would have been really awkward if—” You tilt your head upward to brush your lips against hers and she pecks your lips once. “If this had been one-sided.”

“Carmilla, do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?” Carmilla’s arms wrap around your waist, left hand steady on your back, and she pulls you against her. The fact you’re still standing in the middle of the lobby of an optometrist’s office fades from your mind. All you can think about is Carmilla’s breath on your upper lip and the press of her nose against your cheek.

“Probably not as long as I’ve wanted to kiss you.” Before you can say anything else, she’s kissing you again. And all you can focus on is the feel of Carmilla on your lips. Her lips are hesitant against yours. Carmilla kisses you like she’s afraid you’ll decide you don’t actually want this. As if you’ll decide you don’t want her. And the only thing you can think to do to change her mind is to lift a hand to cup her cheek and kiss her back.

Carmilla sighs into your mouth in what you think is relief. Just as her tongue brushes against your lips, someone clears their throat next to you and Carmilla breaks away from you abruptly.

“Carmilla.” You barely recognize Mattie’s voice over the pounding of your own blood in your ears. You open your eyes reluctantly in time to watch Carmilla lick her lips. Before you can ignore Mattie and lean back in, Carmilla turns away from you.

“Mattie.”

“The two of you can make out all you’d like once you’re back in your own apartment.” Despite the scolding tone to her words, when you look at Mattie she’s smiling and Perry grins at you knowingly.

“Cute.” Carmilla replies, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close to her. “When’s my next appointment?”

“Next Sunday. Be ready by noon.”

“Got it.” Her arm drops from your shoulders. “Now, shall we?”

Mattie shrugs and grabs Perry’s hand, heading out of the front door. Carmilla starts to follow after them, but stops when she doesn’t hear you moving behind her.

“You coming, cupcake? Or would you rather hang out here?” She holds out a hand for you.

“I’m coming.”

And you take her hand.

* * *

 

 **Mattie drops you and** Carmilla off back outside of her apartment. Carmilla immediately heads back upstairs. She uses her walking stick for once which you suppose makes sense considering she’s now completely in the dark. You watch for a moment as she parries her walking stick back and forth heading for the stairs. As always, before you can follow after her, you’re stopped.

“Laura.” Mattie says. You turn back to her and she gestures for you to approach the car again. You do and she leans in towards you. “Watch out for her, will you? I do believe her when she says she’s fine, but I feel better with someone here to look after her.”

“Yeah, of course.” Mattie watches you for a moment and it looks like she wants to say more but then she settles back into her seat.

“Good. Now off my car. I was in the middle of a date before Carmilla called.” You back away from Mattie’s car and she doesn’t spare you another glance. Perry waves you goodbye and shoots you one last thumbs up before Mattie drives away. You look up towards the apartments to see Carmilla leaning over the railing facing your direction.

“Why is it that every time we’re dropped off somewhere, you get held up?” You see her raise an eyebrow.

“Sorry. I’m coming!”

“Please. Take your time. I’ll just be up here by myself. Not kissing anyone or anything.” Carmilla stands up straight and leaves your line of sight. You scramble up the stairs after her embarrassingly quickly.

* * *

 

 **Despite Carmilla’s teasing, you** spend a lot more time talking than kissing. And honestly, it isn’t your rumbling stomach that makes you eventually leave her arms to go pick up some food but the sole fact you need to take a breather from her intoxicating presence. You don’t know how she does it. How she looks at you and it makes the rest of the world fade to white noise.

Regardless of your personal reasoning, it is your stomach that makes Carmilla hand you her wallet and send you out to get take out from the Chinese place a few blocks from her apartment. You’d protested her insistence to pay but the kiss she’d given you before shoving you outside left you little choice edgewise.

You spend your walk daydreaming about Carmilla’s lips and the gentle way she speaks to you. You’re so deep in your own thoughts, it takes you until you’re walking up the stairs for a sense of foreboding to hit and you almost trip on the last stair.

You see Carmilla’s door slightly ajar when you approach it and you almost rush inside to make sure she isn’t being robbed when you hear a familiar voice inside.

“—not call me?” It’s the Dean. Granted you’ve only met the Dean once but you can’t help but think she sounds like she’s physically making herself keep her voice calm.

“I didn’t want to bug you.” Carmilla replies evenly. A part of you wants to run inside and defend Carmilla. Another wants to run away. Despite your mind pulling you in two different directions, your feet keep you planted just outside her apartment and eavesdropping on a conversation you have no business hearing.

“That is not an excuse. You know that your well-being is _very_ important to me, Carmilla. If your vision failed, I should have been informed immediately, if not the _first_ to know.” The Dean counters.

“I called you—” Carmilla starts to grumble but the Dean interrupts.

“You call almost two hours after you find out your vision might be gone permanently. You call me after you have your _sister_ make your appointment for you. You _call_ me as some kind of afterthought after you send your little friend to make a food run.” You try not to be offended at being dismissed as some plaything for Carmilla. Carmilla doesn’t say anything to the Dean for a few seconds and someone drums their fingers against some surface within Carmilla’s apartment. You hear a deep breath from one of the two people inside and then Carmilla speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Excuse me?” It is definitely Carmilla who takes a deep breath this time.

“I said, I’m sorry. I should have called you. I just didn’t want you worrying about me when you have more important matters to attend to.”

“Carmilla,” the Dean sighs. It seems her previous anger has passed. “You know my work takes a backseat to your well-being. When I took you in, I told you I’d see you be successful and I mean it. This won’t happen again.”

“Yes, mother.”

“I will be taking you to your appointment next week rather than your sister.” Carmilla mumbles something you don’t catch. “You understand I’m only trying to do what is best for you, right?”

“I understand.”

“Good. I’ll see you on Sunday.” You hear her coming toward the door and scramble to the stairs to make it look like you’re just getting back. However when the Dean approaches you pretending to be walking down the hallway, you know she sees right through you. Despite your fears she doesn’t say a word to you. She only gives you a meaningful look that you can’t decipher and then brushes past you to exit down the stairs.

You don’t linger on that exchange for long, instead turning back to Carmilla’s now closed door. You maneuver the bag of food still clutching your arms to get it open. When you step inside, Carmilla is sitting on one of her counters in her kitchenette. She’s changed out of her usual all black attire and into a pair of shorts. She’s also wearing a pair of socks that you think are yours and a flannel that _definitely_ belongs to you.

You don’t think she’s ever look prettier than she does in your clothes. You don’t think she’s ever looked more like _yours_.

“That you, cupcake?” Carmilla asks. She looks kind of tired for a short moment before she stretches her arms above her head and slides off the counter.

“Were you expecting someone else?” You ask and she smiles.

“Haha, smartass. You sure took your sweet time.” She walks toward you slowly and carefully. You know she’s adjusting to not being able to see a thing rather than seeing a distorted blur so you wait where you are for her to find you.

“It was barely like half an hour. Did you miss me?” Her hands bump your arms, then she raises her hands to cup the back of your neck. You lean in when she presses a kiss to your lips. Your stomach flips at the thought you could do this all the time. That you’re allowed to kiss her when you want rather than just imagining it. Carmilla pulls away much too soon and she bites her lip to hold back the grin you see spreading across her face.

“Absolutely not.” Carmilla sounds a little breathless and you celebrate the fact that _you_ have that effect on her. Her voice is more steady by her second sentence. “I was just hungry.” She takes the bag from your hands and moves away from you to set it on the counter. You’re left gaping at her as she ignores you to pull the different containers of food out one by one and set them down.

Carmilla is still a bit of a mystery to you, you can admit. But the way she banters with you is something you hope never passes. You hope the way you feel about her never changes. Because if this is how it felt to be with Carmilla, the way your heart swells just _looking_ at her and the way it feels ready to burst when she touches you, that is a feeling you hope will last a lifetime.

You wrap your arms around her right arm and hug it to your body. Carmilla turns her head towards you and raises an eyebrow.

“Hey.” You say softly and she smiles.

“Hey.”

“I think I got an A on my paper.”

“What makes you think that?” She pretends to busy herself trying to figure out what’s in the container in her hands, but you know she’s listening.

“Because it was about you.”

“Why would writing about me get you an A?” You move closer and your lips press against her shoulder.

“You know.” Carmilla tries to hide the wide smile on her face, but you see it all the same. Your stomach is doing somersaults, but when she turns to face you again you know she feels this too. The same way you feel about her. She sets the container down slowly and turns into you. Her left hand moving to your back and her right finding its way from your grip to fist in the fabric at your collarbone.

And just before she kisses you, she breathes out against your lips, “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank every single one of you enough for the experience writing this has brought. Thank you for all the kind words, thank you for reading, and thank you for sticking with me through this.
> 
> As I promised, since this got to (and past) 1.5k kudos' I will be writing another accompanying one/two shot to go with this story (yes with smut), so if you're interested keep and eye out for that.
> 
> And once again, thank you. <3

**Author's Note:**

> [Don't be a stranger!](http://carmillasleatherpants.tumblr.com)


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